


The Prince Who Cried Tiger

by divine1655



Category: Stray Kids (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fantasy, Angst, Anxiety, Assassin minho, Blood and Injury, Complete, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Flashbacks, Fluff, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, M/M, Magic, Memory Loss, Minho can transform into a tiger, Minor Character Death, Multifandom References, OT8, Original Character(s), Panic Attacks, Prince Han Jisung | Han, Prophecy, Sassy Minho, Slow Burn, Smut, Torture, Trauma, Weekly Updates, about 160k words, but lowkey soft for Jisung, more to be added eventually ig, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-06
Updated: 2021-01-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:35:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 13
Words: 166,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27415846
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/divine1655/pseuds/divine1655
Summary: This is a tale of two boys. One a prince and the other a sinner.The Prince's only wish is to fix what his tyrannical father had broke,While the other wants to fix the chaos within.With the sweet but haunting words of a prophecy, their paths will intermingle and because of it, a flower will bloom.But like everything else in this wretched world, nothing is ever as it seems.Or, Minho's an assassin hired to kill Jisung but doesn't succeed. Minho gets roped in to help Jisung overthrow his dad but they fall in love along the way.
Relationships: Han Jisung | Han/Lee Minho | Lee Know
Comments: 143
Kudos: 293





	1. Disquieting

**Author's Note:**

> Tr*gger W*rning! Some of the themes and subjects of this story may not be suitable for all. Discretion is advised. If you do not like heavy themes (such as nonconsent/ r*pe/ assa*lt/ violence/ etc.) then this fanfic is most likely not for you, although I do believe that instances regarding these subjects are fleeting and mostly implied within the story. I do have a one-shot of Seungjin if you wanna read that instead (wink wink)
> 
> I do not wish for any of the mentioned themes above to happen to anyone. This is a work of fiction and nothing written is based on real events. I want nothing but the best for Stray Kids and everyone reading my work.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Disquieting: an adjective, inducing feelings of worry or anxiety.
> 
> Minho and Seungmin return from dragon hunting. Hyunjin and Felix are sweethearts. Jeongin is cheeky but everyone loves him anyway. Minho is sent out to assassinate the Prince of Korea.

To say that Minho was tired would be the understatement of the century. 

His body was sore and ached all over. He was certain that the large bruise on his back would be purple and gross for days and not to mention the addition of another scar to his never-ending collection on his body. 

Adjusting his eyepatch, Minho knocked on the familiar wooden door in the alleyway. The panel slid open and a familiar eye peered through the peephole. It widened minutely when its owner recognized them. 

“Password?” Bob’s monotonous voice rang through the air but Minho could tell that the cyclops were happy to see him especially since they were gone for nearly a month. 

After stating the password, Bob opened the door and Minho walked in, giving the extremely tall and lanky cyclops a quick hug. 

“Good to see you, man,” Minho said as he and Bob did their quick bro handshake. The creature before them was so tall that he had to hunch over in order to not hit his head on the ceiling, which was low enough that Minho wouldn’t have any problem touching if he stretched his arms above him.

Seungmin whistled from behind Minho as he entered the cramped space with his crutches. “That’s some sick handshake, why don’t we have one, Bob?” 

Bob shrugged and eyed Seungmin’s crutches and the lack of a leg but didn’t say anything. He only moved out of the way so that they could squeeze past. 

Shuffling to the side, Bob let Minho and Seungmin pass, his one eye blinking ( _or is it winking?_ ) at them. The room was as large as a closet and could barely fit both Bob, Minho, Seungmin, and the tiny reception desk. 

Bob opened the door behind the desk, which was wooden like the previous door but didn’t have a peephole. With a thin hand, Bob gestured for them to enter.

The door; however, led to another door once they crossed a small and narrow hallway. The only difference was that the hallway was white, which combined with the hidden lighting fixtures, made Minho’s single good eye hurt. 

Halting in front of the door that led to the entrance of his home and workplace, Minho scanned his eyeball. A blue light flashed for a millisecond before a soft clicking sound and the huff of air releasing could be heard. The metal door before them stuttered for a moment before sliding smoothly to the left. Seungmin slowly but eventually made his way through and gave Minho a closed mouth smile when he saw the elder looking at him. 

With a deep exhale, Minho turned around and entered the company. The familiar, clean space welcomed them back and Minho felt the tiniest bit of relief wash over his body. 

The place Minho worked for went under the disguise of a cleaning company, which was somewhat accurate in a gruesome way. Minho, with his plethora of unorthodox skills, quickly rose in the ranks as one of the best out of the company's entire assortment of assassins and became known as someone who would get the job done quickly and efficiently. 

But Minho, no matter how many times he returned from the jobs he took, was still taken back from the sight of everything. It was as if he had gone through a portal that led to another dimension or to an alternate reality. The sight was jarring and difficult to process when Minho had first joined, but now, even if Minho still hated the place, he had learned to appreciate the sight. 

They stood in a wide hallway that could either go straight or left. To the right, large archways led to an open space with a giant tree in the center, crows covered many of the branches of the tree. It was so green and so full of life and so vibrant. It contrasted with what was outside.

Outside was a dreary world, a collage of greys and blacks with the occasional blue from the ocean or maybe a pop of yellow from a rare flower, but it had never been as lively as the rose bushes or the clovers in the open space. The hallway to the left of Minho had several ceiling to floor windows that allowed natural sunlight to flow into the building.

On the other side of the open space, doors would periodically interrupt the otherwise plain wall. Minho could only assume where the doors led to despite being a part of the company for about a year. Sconces with nothing in them dotted the walls, but they weren’t needed with the open space since it provided more than enough light. Minho knew that at night, a beautiful blue flame would appear seemingly out of thin air, startling Minho each time. 

The skylights enveloped them in warm light and Minho had a strong urge to take a nap, but he had to fight it because he had duties to complete first. 

Loud shouts filled with excitement surrounded Minho when people spotted him. It was their usual behavior whenever someone came back from a job, especially a long and difficult one like his. 

Their screams started to decrease in volume when they noticed the long scratch across Minho’s face and the eye patch covering Minho’s left eye. The shouts extinguished entirely when they saw Seungmin hobble in with one leg. 

Minho ignored their morbidly curious stares and walked with Seungmin to Jinyoung’s office to report that they were back and successful. 

Eyes followed them the entire way and whispers trailed them, sticking to them like glue. 

“What happened to Minho’s eye?”

“You mean what happened to Seungmin’s LEG?” 

Minho’s eye twitched and he choked down the urge to yell at them and tell them to mind their own business, to quit being nosy, and to go back to doing something productive. 

“They’re fucking annoying,” Seungmin whispered so that only Minho could hear. “But it’s better to keep our mouths shut.” 

Deciding that Seungmin was probably right, Minho nodded and opened the door to Jinyoung’s office once they arrived. Minho let Seungmin enter first and gave everyone who was staring at them a glare before he closed the door. 

“Welcome back, Seungmin. Minho.” Jinyoung said from where he sat behind his empty desk. 

Jinyoung’s office was a space with a high ceiling that curved into a half-circle. The walls to the right and left were crammed with books and other trinkets like a golden globe and skulls of various animals. The wall in front of them was one large window, which bathed Jinyoung in the golden afternoon sunlight

Minho helped Seungmin to one of the chairs before he sat on the other, the redhead’s hair resembling a flame when the sun shone through it. He pulled his backpack off and dumped the dragon scales on the table, not caring if they got damaged in the process. 

“Here’re your fucking dragon scales,” Minho grumbled. 

Seungmin kicked Minho’s shin as he plastered a smile on his face. “We’re back, Hyung.” 

“I wish I could say that I’m glad to see you two unharmed.” Jinyoung ignored Minho with a polite and pitiful smile on his face. Minho held back his scoff and he turned away to look at the books behind Seungmin’s head. 

“Well, all jobs have their dangers. We knew what we were getting ourselves into.” Seungmin was always the more polite one out of the two of them. But only when speaking directly to people, of course. Seungmin was the only person Minho knew beside himself who would be able to insult someone for hours on end behind closed doors. 

Jinyoung nodded. “I’m thankful to have you both in my company. Your skills are otherworldly and without your efforts and sacrifices, everyone in this company wouldn’t have the opportunities they have today.” 

Seungmin nodded and gave Jinyoung a polite smile while Minho struggled to hold in his snarky remarks. He hated how fake Jinyoung was. Faker than the breasts of Mama, the old lady who owned Minho and the whore house Minho lived in years ago. 

“You’ll find your money in your room after dinner. Go to the doctor, rest up.” The moment those words left Jinyoung’s mouth, Minho sprang up and quickly helped Seungmin onto his crutches. “See you at dinner, boys.” 

“Goodbye, Hyung,” Seungmin said and awkwardly tried to bow before he left the room. Minho sent Jinyoung a stare and the older male only smiled back. 

Giving Jinyoung a quick bow, Minho left and shut the door behind him. 

“I can’t believe that guy,” Minho muttered to Seungmin as he helped the younger walk to the hospital. “I wIsH I cOuLd sAy ThAt I’m GlAd To SeE yOu TwO uNhArM- shut the fuck up!”

Seungmin laughed. “Oi, don’t be so loud.”

“I don’t give a single flying fuc-”

“You’re back!” 

Before Minho could even finish his sentence, let alone turn around to see who was shouting at them, a body collided into him and Seungmin, which Minho would guess was supposed to be a hug. But with Seungmin’s one functional leg and Minho’s exhaustion, the so-called hug dragged all three of them to the floor. 

Minho swore under his breath when he hit the floor and swore loudly when someone’s pointy elbow dug into his ribcage. 

“Who the fuck-”

“Jeonginnie!” Seungmin suddenly said. 

Minho turned in time to see Jeongin leap off the floor and into Seungmin’s open arms, but that, unfortunately, gave Jeongin the perfect angle to knee his chin. 

Jeongin’s fluffy sand-colored ears flicked happily atop of his head while his tail tickled Minho’s exposed ankle, his brown paperboy cap laid on the floor a few inches away from him. 

“Yeah, it’s great to be back,” Minho said loudly and drily all while ignoring the weird looks they were getting from passersby. 

Jeongin giggled as he helped Seungmin onto his foot and placed his hat back onto his head, tucking his ears away. 

“Don’t be bitter, Hyung,” Seungmin rolled his eyes fondly as they all started to head to the hospital together. “It makes you look ugly.” 

Minho scoffed. “I’m never ugly.” 

“I don’t know about that. You’re pretty ugly when you sleep.” 

“Yeah? Well, you-”

“Okay! That’s enough.” Jeongin held a hand in front of both Minho’s and Seungmin’s faces, successfully shutting both of them up. “This isn’t about who is uglier, but we can all agree it’s Minho-”

“Excuse me?”

"Wait, there's this one instance in which Minho Hyung was cute for once." Seungmin's face stretched into a sinister grin and Minho groaned. He knew what Seungmin was going to say.

"Seungmin, don't-"

"What?" Jeongin gasped dramatically. "I wanna know!"

Seungmin nodded eagerly as he recalled the memory. "You should've seen him, Jeongin. When we got hurt, Minho Hyung had these cute little ears and even a tail when he was healing and it was hilarious 'cause he was embarrassed that he couldn't get rid of them for a while." 

Minho groaned loudly as Jeongin cooed.

"Listen, it's only when I'm really injured that it happens, alright? It's hard to control which form I'm in sometimes," Minho said as a desperate attempt at salvaging his reputation. 

"Right, right." Seungmin rolled his eyes playfully. "The whole transforming into a tiger shit, whatever Furry."

"Yeah, exact- what the hell did you call me?" Minho turned to glare at the younger but he only received a boisterous laugh in return. 

"You heard me," Seungmin began. "Fur-"

“Guys stop!" Jeongin suddenly said as he tried to hold back his own laughter. "Enough about Minho Hyung 'cause no one really cares, I have some exciting news to share.” 

Minho crossed his arms in faux annoyance but that didn’t stop Seungmin from laughing at him nor did it stop Jeongin from continuing.

“So I visited my moms during my last mission, right?” 

“You need to stop doing that, Jeongin,” Seungmin said, his voice light but a serious tone laid underneath. “It’s dangerous when you go off and do your own thing when you have a job to do.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” Jeongin said with a flippant gesture. “But anyway, I spoke to one of my moms-”

“The crackhead with the gambling addiction or the one who tried to pimp you out?” Minho asked drily even if the thought still made his blood boil. 

“Take a wild guess.” Jeongin rolled his eyes.

“The crackhead with gambling addiction?” Seungmin guessed. 

“Ding ding! Now back to my story, I was trying to grill her for answers ‘cause you know how we all know that we don’t know what kind of creature I am, right?”

“Right.”

Minho was confused with what the hell Jeongin was talking about but he nodded anyway. One too many “know”s were said. 

“Spoiler alert: I didn’t get any answers, but anyway-”

“I’m going to head to my room,” Minho interrupted the younger when they reached the doors to the hospital. 

Jeongin gave him a dirty look when Minho interrupted him but otherwise didn’t spare him another glance before he nodded and continued his story. Seungmin, however, took his time to give Minho a look that made Minho feel oddly guilty. 

_“Sorry_ ,” Minho mouthed before he turned and left. 

  
  
  


Minho’s room was Minho’s safe haven. 

It was a modest space with white walls with a window above a bed that was pressed against the far wall. A desk against the left wall and two doors occupied the other wall. One door led to a small full bathroom and the other, a closet.

Minho peeled off the eyepatch and tossed it into the trash can next to the sink. He looked up at the mirror and almost gasped aloud. Leaning closer to the mirror, Minho carefully examined his eye, not believing that it was his. 

“Hey, Hyung?” Hyunjin called out and entered the bathroom, the elf’s long hair swishing when he walked. “Are you- Woah!” 

Minho turned to look at Hyunjin who gasped audibly. 

Hyunjin, the only person beside Felix, had known Minho since Minho was sixteen and Hyunjin was fifteen. They had been through nearly every struggle together and Minho wouldn’t hesitate to murder someone for him.

Well, Minho would murder just about anyone but that’s beside the point.

“What? What is it?” Felix’s deep voice rumbled, the thud of his footsteps increased in volume until stopping completely once he was behind Hyunjin. “What are you guys- wow!” 

Hyunjin and Felix leaned closer to Minho and Minho resisted the urge to back away. Looking in the mirror once more, Minho observed the light grey color of his left iris as opposed to his right iris, which was dark enough to be considered black. The scar from the gash that ran across his face had remarkably faded so that it could only be seen under certain lighting.

“Can you see clearly, Hyung?” Felix asked. 

Minho nodded and tilted his head to observe how his eye looked from different angles. “I can see fine. It doesn’t even hurt. I think the poison bleached it or something.” 

“That’s so cool.” Hyunjin awed. 

“Shut up.” Minho playfully rolled his eyes. “Your eyes are literally silver.” 

“Yeah, but they’re not two different colors.” Hyunjin pouted. 

Minho flicked Hyunjin’s lower lip before pushing past both of them to head for his closet. Rummaging through it, he picked out a black long sleeve from his large selection of dark-colored shirts and pulled his current shirt off his body, which was sweaty from his workout. 

Flicking the shirt somewhere off to the side, Minho was about to put his black shirt on before someone gasped behind him. 

“What happened here, Hyung?” Felix said as Minho felt gentle fingers trace over the large bruise on his back. 

“Oh, the bruise?” Minho turned his body so that he could look at it in his closet mirror. It covered a large portion of his back and it was a sickly purple shade with parts that were closer to black than purple or blue. The edges of the large bruise were starting to become a yellowish color, but it was a slow healing process. “That’s from when the dragon knocked me into the cave wall twice.” 

“Twice?” Hyunjin yelled at the same time Felix yelled “knocked into the cave wall?” 

“Yup,” Minho said offhandedly as he pulled his shirt over his head. If he was going to be honest, it hurt like a bitch to move, but he wasn’t going to tell them that and make them worry more. As an attempt to appear nonchalant, he ruffled his hair in an attempt to make it somewhat presentable. 

Felix moved to help Minho fix his hair as Hyunjin watched with a constipated look on his face.

Minho knew that Hyunjin had more to say. “Anyway, did you want something, Hyunjin?” He glanced in the mirror to see what Felix had done to his hair. Felix had parted it above his left eyebrow. “Oh thanks, Felix.”

“Er- not exactly. I was just going to ask you how your mission went.” Hyunjin tucked his black hair behind his ear and Minho realized that Hyunjin needed a haircut. The back of his hair reached the nape of his neck and the younger was constantly moving his hair from his eyes. 

Minho shrugged. “It was fine. The dragon got the best of us for a little but obviously, we won, so.” 

Truthfully, Minho felt as if it was entirely his fault that everything had gone to shit. If only he had protected Seungmin from the dragon. The younger would still have his leg. 

“Well, I’m proud of you.” Felix’s smile was bright enough to power a castle. “Not anyone can slay a dragon.” 

Heat rushed to Minho’s cheeks when he realized both Hyunjin and Felix were looking at him with only good intentions, but it did nothing to quell the guilt in his chest. 

Nodding slowly, Minho played with the hair located at the nap of his neck. “Ye-yeah.” 

  
  
  
  
  


A soft breeze tickled the nape of Minho’s neck as he, Hyunjin, and Felix made their way to join Jeongin so that they all could visit Seungmin in the hospital together. But before they could get very far, a warm hand fell onto Minho’s shoulder. 

Resisting the urge to slap the hand away, Minho glanced to find Jackson’s warm smile directed towards him, but despite the sunny deposition, Minho felt nothing but dread. 

“Hey, Jackson Hyung!” Felix chirped from beside Minho. 

“Hey,” Jackson’s eyes crinkled to half-moons as he smiled. Jackson, a close friend of Jinyoung’s was pretty high up in the small social hierarchy within the company. Not to mention how he was an expert at the saber and served as Jinyoung’s personal assistant. 

Minho would joke that Jackson was Jinyoung’s slave but he wasn’t in the mood because even if Jackson was a kind person, he was always the bringer of bad news. 

“What is it now?” Minho fought back the scowl tugging on his lips. 

Jackson pouted and Minho rolled his eyes. “What? No hello?”

“Hello, now what do you want?” 

Hyunjin laughed as Felix tried to scold him but it wasn’t very effective when he was trying to hold back laughter himself. 

Jackson gave him a playful glare but his expression quickly sobered. “Jinyoung wants to see you. As soon as possible, preferably.” 

Minho furrowed his eyebrows. _What could Jinyoung possibly want now?_

“Another mission?” Felix’s deep voice interrupted Minho’s thoughts. “But he just got back from one.” 

Jackson shrugged as if to say ‘what can you do?’ 

“Don’t shoot the messenger. It’s probably extremely important if Jinyoung’s sending Minho out so soon,” Jackson said with a sympathetic smile. 

Minho didn’t want his pity.

Jackson then bid them goodbye and gave Minho a few reassuring pats on the back. Minho ignored the dull pain from when Jackson hit his bruise as Hyunjin and Felix said bye back. 

“Another mission, huh?” Hyunjin said as they neared the hospital bay. 

“I guess,” Minho mumbled. He didn’t really understand how jobs or missions were assigned. He just did them whenever Jinyoung assigned them to him. 

“A big one too,” Felix spoke up as he grabbed the door and they entered the clean hospital reception. 

“It could be something basic like scoping out an area.” Minho didn’t want them to be concerned even though he was thinking the same thing as them. “It might just take a while, which could be why he needs to send me out quickly.” 

“Let’s hope it's not that dangerous then,” Hyunjin said, playing with the long strands of hair at the base of his neck. “Or not too long.” 

Minho laughed, his eyes crinkling as he did. “I don’t know about you, but being on a mission for almost an entire month? My favorite.” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes as Felix chuckled. Minho really did miss them on his missions. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“You wanted to see me?” Minho said as he entered Jinyoung’s office. 

The room was basked in a golden hue as the sun slowly set behind Jinyoung’s desk and dust particles twirled in the air. Jinyoung swirled around in his chair as Minho sat down on his usual chair, the one on the right. 

“Yes, I did. I think Jackson already told you that you’re going on another mission.” 

Minho nodded before Jinyoung continued. 

“Your next mission is monumentally more exciting than slaying a dragon. You are to assassinate this person,” Jinyoung said as he pulled out a folder and opened it to reveal the profile of a boy. 

Minho didn’t flinch when Jinyoung dropped the news. Minho had killed before for less pay than what Jinyoung was most likely going to give him. He wasn’t proud of it, but he had done it before and there was no reason in pretending that he hadn’t. Hell, this probably wouldn’t be his last. 

Picking up the paper with a steady hand, Minho examined the picture attached with a paperclip. The boy had hair that was almost an electric blue color and looked soft to the touch. His eyes were a striking shade of green which stood out drastically with his pale skin and the black suit he was wearing. His round cheeks reminded Minho of a squirrel. 

Minho tore his eyes away from the photo to look over the written information on the boy while Jinyoung explained the information given. 

“That’s Han Jisung, the son of our current king, King Kangsoo,” Jinyoung explained. “We received a call earlier today to assassinate him.” 

Minho looked over the folder to peer at Jinyoung, who was not smiling for once. “He’s a kid,” Minho said deadpanned. He’s the same age as Hyunjin and Felix. 

Jinyoung shrugged. “That has never stopped you before.” 

Minho stared harder at the photo of the boy before Jinyoung took the paper. 

“Listen, Minho. I’m not going to lie, this will be a very difficult mission. which is why I’m entrusting it to you.” Jinyoung leaned over the desk, resting his forearms on the smooth mahogany wood. “You’re being paid a lot to do this, more than all your previous paychecks combined. When you complete your job, you could turn down all the missions I offer you and you’d still have enough money to live in fucking outer space for all I care about.” 

Jinyoung took a deep breath before he continued. “What I’m trying to say is that this mission is like no other and I can only trust you to make sure this goes as smoothly as possible. So are you in or not?” 

Jinyoung’s dark irises bore holes into Minho’s mismatched eyes as he contemplated his options. Jinyoung wasn’t really giving Minho a choice, he was being polite for the sake of it. 

Minho sighed and ran a hand through his hair, ruining the effort Felix had put into styling it. “When have I ever said no to a mission?” Minho said as a sadistic smile crawled onto his face. 

“You never disappoint me, Minho.” Jinyoung returned the smile and leaned back to sit properly in his chair. “Tomorrow, at one AM, a car will be waiting for you in front of the alley to take you to the mountain below the King’s castle. We have an insider who told us that there’s a hidden doorway that you’ll be able to use to sneak into.”

“How do we know that we can trust them?”

“We don’t,” Jinyoung sighed and Minho felt anger flare through his body. “But we do have an upper hand on them so it’d be in their best interest to tell the truth.” 

Minho didn’t like the risk but he nodded that he understood and took the folder with the information about Han Jisung. 

  
  
  
  
  


Red, fear, screams. 

A fisted hand curled around his hair, dragging him out remorselessly. 

Dead bodies littering the ground. 

His parent’s soulless eyes.

A silver earring. 

Minho slowly opened his eyes and stared at the smooth ceiling above him. 

His heart pounded erratically within his chest as sleep slowly left his body. Sweat clung to Minho’s temples as he mulled over his nightmare. He could still hear his mother's voice telling him to hide as fear clung to her beautiful eyes and he could still see how the silver earring in her ear caught the setting sunlight. The ghost of his mother's hands on his shoulder when she pushed him into the closet weighed heavily on Minho's shoulders.

Letting go of a breath, Minho ultimately decided to ignore the dream altogether because that’s what Minho does best. Ignoring his feelings and emotions.

Hyunjin’s and Felix’s breathing was the only thing that cut through the stifling silence in his room. It served as a way for Minho to ground to reality and forget the images that flashed in his mind. The two boys must’ve snuck in some time ago. 

He carefully detangled himself from the boys sleeping next to him. A glance at the clock on his desk told him that it was a little past twelve, few people would be awake at this hour, but not Hyunjin and Felix. It didn’t bother Minho, in fact, he liked that they wouldn’t be there to say goodbye. It was easier that way. 

Minho peered into the mirror hanging on his bathroom wall and stared at his reflection. He examined the purple bags under his eyes that never seemed to disappear no matter how long he slept. He observed his grey iris before comparing it to his other that almost seemed pitch black despite the bright light from the LED lights. His stygian black hair was messy and stuck out at various angles, but Minho couldn’t bring himself to care. He only washed his face and brushed his teeth before he left with a heavy sigh. 

He pulled out a black long sleeve that seemed to be made out of magic because Minho was never too hot or too cold when he wore it. He also pulled out camo cargo pants that tapered to tighten around his leg, which made it easy for him to tuck the material into his favorite steel-toe black combat boots. Slipping on a lightweight tactical vest that had the bare minimum of what he needed, Minho slid his dual katanas in the scabbards on his back before he glanced at his reflection within his closet mirror. 

It was like any other mission yet Minho couldn’t help the anxiety that ran through his veins like blood. 

Everything felt wrong and Minho was scared. He shouldn’t feel like this- shouldn’t be scared. He knows how these things go; he’s done this a million times before. 

He ran his hands through his hair as a last-ditch attempt at calming down but it barely did anything. 

“Fuck it,” Minho muttered under his breath and closed his closet door. 

He sighed before he walked over to the sleeping boys on his bed. Hyunjin’s hair fanned around him like a black halo. Felix’s reddish-brown hair was unbelievably unruly and Minho couldn’t help but chuckle. The two of them had managed to find each other in the short amount of time Minho got out of bed and their limbs tangled around each other as if their lives depended on it. 

Minho adjusted the blanket around them and gave each of them a kiss on the forehead, but if anyone would ask if he did, Minho would deny all accusations. Felix squirmed around a bit and Minho worried that he woke him up, but Felix only moved to cuddle Hyunjin more and a relieved sigh escaped from Minho’s lips. He gave them one last look before he turned to leave, however, his bedside table caught his attention. 

His dream from earlier flashed before his eyes as he opened the drawer and glanced at the only object within it. 

A knock on his door startled Minho from his trance and Minho silently chastised himself from getting carried away like that. 

He glanced at the earring in the drawer before grabbing it and crossed the short distance to the door. 

“Minho?” A hoarse voice hushed from behind him. “Are you going now?” 

Minho cursed under his breath. Of course, Hyunjin would wake up right when he’d leave. Since when was life ever easy? 

Turning around slowly, Minho plastered a smile to his face. “Yup, heading out now.” 

“We’d send you off,” Felix grumbled as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, his already deep voice even deeper. 

Knowing he’d never win with an argument with them, Minho gave in. “Fine, hurry up, let’s go.” Turning on his heels, Minho pulled the door open to find both Seungmin and Jeongin outside, Jeongin’s hand was raised as if he was about to knock. 

“Hi,” Jeongin cracked a smile. 

“Why am I not surprised.” 

  
  
  
  
  


Minho was right; there were only a few people up at this hour. The few that they ran into gave them small words of encouragement, which Minho ignored but Hyunjin, the chatter out of the five of them, said thank you back, otherwise, they remained silent. 

They passed through the blindingly white hallway and entered the reception room. Bob sat up straight in his chair and gave them a silent nod as they passed by, staring a little longer at Minho but Minho ignored it. 

“Hey, Hyung?” Hyunjin asked as they stood in the alleyway, breaking the long silence. “You ever been in an automobile before?” 

“Nope,” Minho responded as he took the first step forward and approached the car. 

An ogre with dark green skin, rough and chiseled like a stone statue, leaned against the black car. A cigarette dangled from his lips, next to the yellowing fangs that hung over his lower lip. His all-black eyes scanned them before he spat out the cigarette. 

“You Lee Minho?” He said, voice gruff and cold. 

Minho nodded and stared back at the man before he held out a wide, calloused hand. 

“Nice to meet you, I’m Joe, Jinyoung sent me. Get in the car, we have a bit of a drive.” 

Wordlessly, Minho entered the vehicle and glanced out of the tinted windows to see his friends. His heart pounded in his chest as Hyunjin and Felix waved bye to him while Jeongin offered a reassuring smile. Seungmin looked like he wanted nothing more than to go back to sleep and Minho couldn’t blame him. 

Before long, Joe started the car and with a rumble, Minho was off. He watched as their figures slowly disappeared into the distance and the weight on Minho’s chest nearly became unbearable. 

Hoping to get his mind off of his anxiety, Minho turned his head to look out at the moving buildings outside but immediately turned his head back around when he spotted someone familiar. 

Granny, or Ms. Hong as most people called her, was an old lady who had cared for Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix before they had met Seungmin and Jeongin and later joined the company. Granny, quite literally saved their lives and Minho was nothing but grateful for the old lady.

But as Minho passed her walking on the sidewalk, presumably going home after a long day of working at her produce stall. She looked at the car with a disapproving frown and Minho wanted nothing more than to jump out of the moving vehicle and run into her open arms. But Minho questioned if she would accept him especially after everything he had done. 

The company building disappeared from view before Minho caught the rectangular earring glimmering in the grimy yellow streetlights through the reflection in the mirror. It almost seemed too pure for him. Turning it over to run his thumb across the engravings, Minho curled his fingers around the metal jewelry before releasing a breath. 

Minho slipped the earring on his left ear and returned his gaze out of the window. His eyes, tired yet strangely alert, gazed back at him and Minho wished the world would stop spinning for just a second. 

Minho, as much as he tried, couldn’t shake the anxiety clinging to his body. He couldn’t help but want to see his boys one more time. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


When Minho entered the city, the first thing Minho noticed was the properly paved roads that ran parallel to the sidewalk and divided the ground into sections for cars to drive on and places for people to walk along. 

Minho could hear music and laughter coming from the bars and pubs that were open late at night. Children weren’t sleeping on cardboard boxes in the alleyways and weren’t curled into themselves, trying to have at least a little bit of warmth. 

It appeared as if people were genuinely happy and Minho wondered how that felt. Compared to the place Minho was from, these people were more human-like at least in appearance. Some of the only hints that they weren’t human came from pointed ears or eyes that tilted a little bit too much. The people that Minho had grown up with, saved for a few outcasts like himself, Hyunjin, and Felix, often had skin tones varying from blues to greens or even red. Horns weren’t uncommon nor were scales. 

Joe turned onto a less busy street then onto another street and another until they were amongst white two-story houses. The car rolled to a stop in front of one of the white houses and Minho couldn’t help but feel cheated by life. 

Why did he end up poor and dirty when there are people who were the same age as him who lived in sparkly houses and drank champagne with their dinner every night? 

_Well, it doesn’t matter. Someone like me doesn’t deserve to live like them._

Joe stopped the car before he peered at him through the rearview mirror. “This is as far as I can take you.”

“I know. Thanks for your help.” 

Joe shrugged as Minho got out of the car and began to walk down the road before he cut across someone’s lawn, grabbing their newspaper as he did so. 

He hopped over a few fences until he reached the edge of the forest. The moment he stepped amongst the trees, Minho’s anxiety nearly dispersed into nothingness. His featherlight steps carried him across the uneven earth and he traveled north like what he was told to do. As he did so, he began to read the newspaper. 

The newspaper was a day old but Minho didn’t really care. What surprised Minho, however, was the large photo of the boy Minho was supposed to kill, Han Jisung, on the very first page. Scanning through the article, Minho’s eyebrows pinched in confusion as the article had nothing but praise for the boy, going off about how he had helped numerous orphanages despite his young age and how he was a pioneer for change. Minho wanted to laugh. 

What change were they talking about? Life for Minho and for many others like him had been the same since the beginning. 

Turning a page, Minho was greeted by an older male who looked identical to Jisung but a few decades older. Upon further reading, Minho realized that it was their King. The article was the complete opposite of the article on Jisung and Minho couldn’t hide his scoff. The newspaper was so clearly biased. 

Don’t get Minho wrong, he knew how shitty the King was and Minho despised him, but nothing was going to be done about it no matter how highly citizens praised Han Jisung. The people in power who actually could make a difference would never do so because it meant fewer coins in their pockets and less power in their hands. 

Minho tossed the newspaper over his shoulder, uncaring about how the King was stealing money from the poor through taxes. Minho didn’t care mostly because he hated politics but also because he didn’t pay taxes.

With a sigh, Minho tilted his head to catch the moon disappearing and reappearing from behind the trees. Minho couldn’t remember the last time he could amble around almost pointlessly and just enjoy the chilly nighttime air. Maybe the last time was when he escaped the whore house with Hyunjin and Felix? Almost two years ago? 

A lot has changed since then. 

Minho’s thighs were burning as he climbed over the hill and was met with a clear view of the castle. The four main pillars of the castle stood tall and it seemed as if the spires seemed to scrape the sky above. If the information Minho was given was correct, then Han Jisung’s room would be in the southeast tower. 

He slipped past the metal gate which opened up to a paved path that led to the tall stone castle. Flower beds lined the wide pathway and bright green grass that was perfectly cut took up the remainder of the space. Hedges grew along the stone wall that enclosed the area, wines with flowers of all colors climbed and consumed the wall so that the grey stone wall disappeared behind waves of green. 

As Minho darted through the courtyard and to the back of the castle, maple and other various trees started to appear and seemed to condense behind the castle. Minho passed by a large fountain and nearly tripped when he noticed the water flowing out of a child’s butt. Minho questioned its purpose. 

Now that Minho was closer to the castle, he could notice the small details such as how the broad dark-stained wooden doors were flanked with windows and how the roofs were a rich blue color, which contrasted with the cool grey of the stones. Flags with the family crest flowed easily in the wind from where they sat on the high points of the towers. 

“It's pretty European for Korean royalty,” Minho mumbled to himself. Perhaps if he finished his school education, he’d know why. 

Minho stopped under the southeast tower, which was slowly being consumed by ivy dotted with snowy-white flowers. Hedges lined the base of the tower and for some reason, a strong sense of deja vu overcame Minho. Even if the feeling was unnerving, Minho shoved the thought aside and knew he couldn’t dwell on that feeling for long; he had a mission to take care of.

Giving himself a small but necessary head shake, Minho began to poke around the tiles to find the one that would grant him access. After a bit of fondling, Minho found the right title and suddenly, a portion of the wall began to move to reveal an entrance. Dust tickled Minho’s nose and he couldn’t help but sneeze. 

“Bless you.” 

“Thanks.” 

Wait. 

Minho paused when he realized that he wasn’t alone. 

Whirling around, Minho immediately found a man whose eyes were equally as perplexed as his. 

Panic shot through Minho’s body but without hesitating, Minho drew his katanas and dashed to the man in front of him who barely had enough time to draw his own sword. Minho’s blades came into contact with the guard’s short sword with a heavy clang and Minho cursed aloud. 

Minho had to get rid of him and quickly. 

Minho glanced at the guard he was dueling and stared into his wide eyes. The guard must’ve been young and inexperienced, his pupils shook from fear. Minho hardened his expression and removed one sword to stab into the small exposed portion of his chest piece. The man crumbled to the ground with a small grunt before Minho turned around and entered the castle. 

Sliding his katanas into the scabbards, Minho found himself in a damp and musty hallway. The wooden floorboards below him were squishy and bent easily under his weight. Luckily, it wasn’t long until Minho reached another door. Minho pressed his ear against the door and carefully listened to any signs of life. Once satisfied that there was no one, Minho opened the door and stepped out. 

A large, grand hallway greeted Minho as his eyes adjusted to the sudden exposure of light. The hallway seemed to stretch forever and disappear beyond Minho’s vision. Intricate light fixtures hung from the high, curved ceilings and fancy paintings of landscapes in gold frames decorated the walls. The floor was a dark walnut color with rich blue rugs running through the middle. 

Minho looked both ways before he turned to the right. 

After dashing down the main hallway, Minho turned to run down a smaller path. The wall sconces in this hallway were unlit and his only source of light was from the waning moon in the sky that hung alone this night. It was quiet in the castle except for the occasional hoot from an owl or the whispers of the wind. 

Minho didn’t stop even when his legs started to burn and go numb. His brain shut off and he went into something akin to autopilot. He barely registered the burning of his lungs when he pushed himself to go faster, only focused on getting to his location to do what he was supposed to. 

Minho shook his head to clear his thoughts and continued with a deep intake of air, but a strong sense of deja vu nearly made him stop. The sudden rush of familiarity made his head spin and a migraine was starting to build in the back of Minho’s mind. But Minho, a master at ignoring his problems, gritted his teeth and pushed onwards. 

_Why now? Just my luck._

Minho shook his head harder than before and took off faster, but he still couldn’t shake the feeling that everything looked and seemed familiar. He had never been inside the castle before so why was he experiencing this? Minho’s gut feelings were rarely wrong, but he couldn’t help but feel like this time, it was.

Anxiety raced through his veins and fueled his paranoia. His eyes darted around constantly and he started to grow suspicious at the sudden silence and the lack of guards especially considering he was nearing the prince’s room. Ultimately, he chalked it up to his pessimistic brain making everything seem worse than it really was. 

It was getting harder to breathe the closer he got to Han Jisung’s room and panic was starting to settle deep within his lungs, but like the healthy person Minho was, he shoved that thought far away in the depths of his brain to ignore until later and forced himself to take deep breaths. 

Minho turned a corner and a large walnut door came into focus. Approaching the door, Minho gritted his teeth and continued to ignore the sinking familiarity at the sight of it. 

Willing himself to calm down, Minho listened for any signs of life on the other side of the door, wiping his clammy palms on his pants as he did so. When he didn’t hear anything, Minho assumed that Han Jisung was asleep, and carefully picked the lock, then opened the door enough to slip through. 

The first thing Minho noticed was the overwhelming smell of oranges. The citrus scent infiltrated Minho’s nostrils, surprising the assassin. An underlying node of mint lingered faintly after the initial shock of orange. 

The room was an odd half-circle shape, however, it made sense considering his room was in one of the main towers. The curved wall was nearly all windows which allowed an ample amount of moonlight to filter through the room and paint everything a soft blue hue. A desk laid amongst large bookshelves lining a quarter of the room, a polar bear rug took up a large portion of the floor, hiding some of the rich walnut floorings. A canopy king-sized bed was pushed against the middle of the wall, half of it was on top of the polar bear rug. A rich, blue velvet curtain was drawn back, which revealed a small figure deep within the large bed, swallowed up by the thick blankets. 

Minho approached the boy who was curled into himself like a fetus, his back towards Minho. Once Minho was close enough to see Han Jisung’s face, he bit his tongue to hold back the curse threatening to slip out. The boy reminded Minho too much of Hyunjin and Felix. The moonlight highlighted Han Jisung’s face and made him seem a lot younger than the photo he had seen. 

Han Jisung’s hair was black in the shadows but was strikingly blue in the moonlight. His cheeks were round and made him look innocent. Observing how Jisung’s long eyelashes fanned across his cheekbones, Minho bit the inside of his cheek and pulled out his knife. He’d make his death nice and quick, no need for anything else. 

As Minho adjusted his knife to slice Han Jisung’s neck quickly, something sharp prodded his back. 

“Turn around slowly,” A voice spoke up, gritty yet sharp. “And put your hands up.”

Minho muttered a low curse. He knew something was going to go wrong.

He had no choice but to turn around with his hands raised. Surprise caused Minho’s eyebrows to quirk slightly when he turned to see a boy who must’ve been at least the same age as him, pointing his staff at his face, the sharp black tourmaline crystal reflecting the moonlight. 

The person before him had hair as dark as the sky outside. His bangs fell into his eyes, but Minho could see the alertness in his sharp gaze. His chin resembled an arrowhead and Minho couldn’t help but notice his short stature yet strong build. 

The stranger’s eyes widened briefly and his defensive stance fell for a second. “You-”

Taking this opportunity to duck and roll away from the murderous short boy, Minho quickly pulled out his katanas. The stranger must have realized his mistake when his gaze hardened to match Minho’s.

“What are you doing here?” The boy spoke up, drawing his staff closer to him. 

“It doesn’t concern you.” Minho forced out a laugh. “You’re not going to live long enough to find out.” 

The boy didn’t respond before an inky black substance began to spread and overtake his entire eyes. The crystal on top of his staff seemed to consume any sort of light nearby and objects near it warped and lost their shape. Black shapeless masses suddenly appeared out of nowhere, flowing gently in the air until they suddenly snapped into trigonal shards as sharp as Minho’s own blades. They all rotated to point at Minho before they shot forward. 

Minho didn’t blink as he quickly and expertly slashed each shard that flew at him, the shatters of the shards fell beside his feet, clattering against the dark flooring and echoing in the silence. He couldn’t help but be impressed by the skills of the short boy; it was known to be difficult to initiate a spell without verbally enunciating it. 

Minho rushed forward and kicked off the window to flip over the boy. He couldn’t help the smug grin from tugging at his lips when the boy’s guarded expression morphed to surprise as Minho rotated over his head. Minho landed a few feet behind the boy and lunged forward to attack but his swords came in contact with the boy’s staff with a harsh clang. 

The stranger before Minho managed to spin around and block his attack in time, much to Minho’s dismay. Minho gritted his teeth and pushed off the staff only to attack again and again but the boy continued to expertly block and dodge Minho’s strikes. 

“What’s all the noise?” 

A hoarse voice spoke up, breaking the tension between the two fighters momentarily. Minho and the boy turned to look at Han Jisung who very clearly had just woken up. He sat up in his large bed, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. His hair stuck up everywhere and was as neat as a bird’s nest. His eyes opened and soon widened, shock then fear followed by concern flashed in his strikingly green irises that seemed to glimmer in the moonlight. 

“Changbin Hyung? What’s going on?” Jisung spoke up, sleep coating his words. 

“Jisung! Listen to me very carefully, you need to-” 

Changbin didn’t have time to finish his sentence before Minho took off towards Jisung. Now that Changbin was distracted, Minho could complete his job. 

Unfortunately for Minho, he had underestimated the abilities of Changbin when a solid body came in contact with him and slammed him to the floor. He barely had enough time to soften the impact with his hands before he was flipped on his back and a heavy body sat on his hips. 

His swords fell and tumbled a few feet away when Changbin knocked him to the ground so Minho could only use his hands to block the punches Changbin was throwing him. Changbin managed to land a few solid hits before Minho grabbed Changbin’s hands with his own.

Minho spat the blood that was collecting in his mouth at Changbin’s face and couldn’t help but feel satisfied when Changbin’s face scrunched in disgust. Minho used this opportunity to flip them over and slammed his fists into Changbin’s chiseled cheeks mercilessly. 

“Oh my god, what the hell is going on?” Minho barely registered Jisung’s concerned outcry, too busy trying to end the boy below him to care. 

Minho lifted his right fist and instead of making contact with the soft flesh of Changbin’s face, he came into contact with Changbin’s calloused hand as he blocked the punch. Minho couldn’t help the irritation that flashed across his face as he picked up his other fist and attempted to attack again but was rendered useless when Changbin grabbed his wrist. 

The two rolled across the floor as they each tried to gain control over the other. Minho finally gained the upper hand and managed to pin Changbin to the floor once again however his victory was proven to be short-lived when Changbin managed to kick Minho off with a solid push against his chest. 

Minho tumbled across the floor and choked on the blood collecting in his mouth when his head came in contact with the desk leg. The desk shook above him and various objects like a clock and pencils fell and splattered across the floor. 

Minho shook his head to clear the stars dancing across his vision and pushed himself up. Changbin stood a few feet away from him. He held his staff held out in front of him and the black tourmaline crystal seemed to swallow more light than before. Changbin started to mumble something under his breath as the inky black substance in his eyes began to roll down his cheeks like thick, viscous, black tears. Minho didn’t know what spell he was casting but Minho knew that if he let Changbin finish, there was a high probability that he would not live. 

“Wait! Hyung, that spell-” Jisung began as Minho charged forward on shaky legs, grabbing one of his katanas off the floor as he made his way towards the mage. 

Minho was mere inches away from Changbin before the dark mass from earlier suddenly appeared between them and blasted Minho across the room. Minho came in contact with the bookshelves, knocking the wind from his lungs. He fell to the floor with a solid thud as books rained down and around him. He lifted his head wearily as he struggled to find his breath in time to see Changbin crumble to the floor. 

“Changbin Hyung!” Jisung exclaimed as he jumped off his bed and rushed to his friend’s side. 

Minho grabbed the desk beside him to help haul himself upon his weak legs and tried to ignore his swimming vision. Minho unexpectedly felt weak and he struggled to find any oxygen. His breathing was labored and sweat combined with blood ran down his face and dripped down his nose and chin. 

Armored feet clanging against the wooden floor outside broke the silence in the room and Minho realized that he didn’t have much time left. 

“There are intruders in the castle! Make sure that the Prince is protected.” 

Minho didn’t have much time left.

Minho lurched forward and drew out a knife that was strapped to his leg. He tried to make his way towards Jisung, who cradled Changbin’s head in his arms, however, he only made it halfway until his legs gave up and buckled below him. Minho fell to the floor pathetically. His legs felt like tons of iron were strapped on his ankles and it seemed as if a thick layer of dust coated the inside of his lungs and prevented any oxygen from flowing to any other part of his body. 

Minho tried to push himself off the floor once again but his attempt only ended in failure; he fell with a pitiful wheeze as he struggled to find any air. 

Jisung must’ve remembered that Minho existed when Jisung’s head suddenly turned and the young boy sent a wary glance towards Minho’s limp form sprawled across his floor. 

It took Minho a few brief seconds to realize that his body was being flipped over and an unfamiliar body climbed on top of his. Hands fisted his collar and raised his chest up before Minho slowly blinked his heavy eyelids open. 

It was as if thick clouds filled Minho’s brain; he couldn’t think properly and he registered everything slower than how he normally did. 

“Who are you and why are you here?” Jisung’s innocent voice sliced through the silence in the room. Instead of responding to Jisung’s questions, Minho’s body was racked with blood coated coughs. “Better speak up before I kill you.” 

Minho couldn’t help the dry chuckle that bubbled past his lips. “Just do it then.”

After a beat of silence from Jisung, a sneer started to stretch across Minho’s lips. “You can’t, huh?” Maybe it was because of the fog within his mind, but Minho suddenly grew bitter at the aspect that he might die tonight by the hands of some sheltered prince who smelled like spring oranges and fresh earthy mint. “Do you know what it’s like outside these walls? The type of lives your citizens are living in? You don’t seem to understand anything, Princess.” 

Something flashed across Jisung’s face, sudden and fleeting, but Minho saw nonetheless. Minho rambled on, his words slurring together and he wasn’t quite sure if Jisung could understand, but his fucks to give were dwindling faster than the energy left in his body. 

“You think your country is the most powerful and greatest there is, but you’re living in a country built on lies.” Jisung’s fists around his collar tightened but Minho continued. “Have you ever had to sell your body for crumbs? Your body violated so badly that the feeling of foreign hands roaming all over will never go away; forever imprinted on your skin and no matter how hard you scrub after a night of work, you still can never feel clean. Sins lay beneath my skin and I did it all to stay alive. What have you done except taking from everyone and pretend that the world is perfect?” 

“You think I don’t know?” The boy above him hissed back, anger flaring in his emerald green eyes. “That my country is falling apart? My father is destroying the place I love so dearly, but I can’t change anything.”  
  


Minho peered at him through half-lidded eyes, exhaustion seeping deep within his bones. Silence washed over them like a thick blanket, the clattering of metal against metal and occasional shouts from outside the room periodically broke the silence. 

“Then do something about it, coward.” Minho spat, his words echoing throughout the tension-filled room. 

“Fuck you.” The boy hissed back before he drew a hand back and punched Minho square in the jaw. “I’m trying. I’m doing something, unlike your pathetic ass who thinks murdering people is the only right answer.” 

A masochistic grin stretched across Minho’s face as he ignored the sting when he licked his chapped lips and tasted blood. “Your kind believes in God and Satan. I believe in neither. I put my trust in Karma because I know that she’ll never let me down and will help me get what I want.”  
  


“You’re full of bullshit.” Jisung clenched his hands around Minho’s neck yet didn’t squeeze. Minho’s grin only grew wider and more taunting when Jisung didn’t have it within him to finish Minho off. 

A strange tension grew between them as they glared at each other. Minho’s breathing was becoming more labored as time went on. Sweat ran down his hairline and across his temple. Jisung’s chest heaved and his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. 

The silence between them was broken when approaching footsteps echoed throughout the hallway, increasing in volume as they reached Jisung’s bedroom. 

“Looks like my time is up.” Jisung’s face morphed to confusion before Minho summoned all remaining strength he had left and kicked Jisung off his body. He pushed himself up onto his shaking legs and ran towards the windows. Just as the guards slammed through the door to Jisung’s room, Minho jumped out the window, shards of glass tumbling and spinning through the air as Minho fell into the trees below. 

Tree branches scratched any exposed skin on Minho’s body and tore through his clothes as he fell. His body fell to the dirt floor with a heavy thud but nothing seemed to be broken so Minho struggled to his feet and took off running into the thick forest behind the castle. Adrenaline was the only reason why Minho was even moving at this point, however, the fog in his mind was starting to clear now that he was breathing in the fresh air. 

He moved through the forest although he wasn’t exactly sure where he was going, he just knew that he couldn’t stop. The moonlight filtered through the thick canopy above him and cast obscure shadows along the forest floor. Guards’ shouts rang throughout the air as Minho pushed and commanded his body to keep moving even when he nearly tripped on a tree root. 

Running through the forest seemed endless. It was only a matter of time that he’d get caught but he had to at least put up a fight. 

Minho kept running blindly despite everything in his body telling him to stop. “One foot in front of the other,” Minho mumbled to himself. His vision blurred as his shallow breaths echoed in his ears. Minho tried his best to keep going but he was forced to stop when his foot caught on a tree root. Cursing himself for nothing noticing the root, Minho tumbled to the floor with a solid thud.

A fresh wave of panic washed over Minho as he realized that he barely had enough strength to lift his head. Breathing was increasingly becoming a challenge- his throat closing up despite Minho’s efforts to claw open his throat. Minho’s lungs burned and his breathing started to become shallow and short. His body shook and trembled like the leaves above him. 

Even the shadows were taunting his pathetic efforts. They twisted to form sinister grins, mocking Minho that his impending doom was right behind him. 

The forest floor was damp and cool, which felt amazing against his burning skin, but he knew that he couldn’t stay and enjoy the cool earth. Minho tried to push himself up, but his body trembled and a strong feeling of nausea pooled deep within his belly. 

Clamping a hand over his mouth to try to muffle his loud breathing and to hopefully stop the intense urge to vomit, Minho pushed himself against the rough bark of a tree and wished for his panic and anxiety to go away quickly. 

He cursed himself at his stupidity; why couldn’t he finish his job? 

He really was useless, disposable, worthless. 

He couldn’t even complete an easy, simple job like this. Not only was he an absolute failure, but he was panicking over his self-inflicted mistakes. 

“Hey! He’s over here!” A loud voice interrupted Minho’s thoughts and Minho swore under his breath. 

Using the tree to get back up, Minho tried to run away once again but a solid, blunt object came into contact with the back of his head. Minho crumbled to the ground, his eyes flicking off like someone had flipped a light switch. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho woke up cold and wet. 

“About time you woke up.” A disinterested voice startled Minho and brought him back to the present. 

Minho tried to rub the sleep out of his eyes but he couldn’t move his arms. Glancing down, his arms were bound to the wooden chair that he was setting on. Water dripped from his hair and rolled down his face, only to reunite in the form of a puddle that was starting to form on the grey and dirty concrete floor. Glancing ahead, cold steel bars taunted him with the prospect of freedom mere meters away. A faint breeze tickled the back of his neck, causing a chill to run down his spine. 

Minho glanced at the other occupant in the room and was surprised to see a thin man with grey hair pointing in all directions. He had a wild look in his eyes as if he had consumed ten cups of coffee a few minutes prior instead of getting the proper amount of sleep. He wore a white lab coat with suspicious stains that looked like old coffee, blood, and other liquids Minho wasn’t sure if he wanted to know. 

“What are you supposed to be? A scientist wannabe?” Minho sneered when the guy shot him an irritated glare. 

“Listen,” he began with a sigh. He placed a wooden stool in front of Minho before he plopped onto the surface. “You don’t know anything about me, but I know about you.”

“Oh really?” Minho gave the man before him a carefree smile. “And what makes you think that?” 

For a second, the man only stared back, a nondescript look on his face before he returned the smile. “I work for the fucking king.” He leaned closer to Minho and his smile turned sardonic. “I have fucking access to so many resources that I can learn just about everything if I wanted to.” 

Minho leaned forward as far as he could but the man before him didn’t flinch away when their noses nearly touched. “Does it look like I fucking care?” Minho whispered and chuckled when the man’s eye twitched in irritation. 

“You-” The man began but stopped himself and Minho bit back a laugh. He straightened his spine before continuing after he recollected himself. “Lee Minho, an orphan who works for a cleaning company located within the heart of Seoul.” 

“Okay and?” Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m a janitor, so what?” 

The man laughed once drily before something flashed in his eyes. Minho wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it triggered the warning bells in Minho’s head as his blood turned cold at a rapid speed. 

“I suppose you can be considered a janitor since you clean the streets of criminals. But the one thing I don’t get is you leave a bigger mess than what you started with. How do you still have your job when there’s blood all over the place once you leave?” The man peered at Minho with a gaze that Minho recognized easily; the gaze of someone who thought Minho was no better than the dirt under their nails. 

Minho sighed and slumped back in his chair. He tried his best to shrug despite the restrictions. “Ah, you got me. I should be fired, shouldn’t I?” 

A cold, slender hand suddenly wrapped around Minho’s throat and tugged him forward. Minho choked on air before he was face to face with the man. “Listen here, you whore. I don’t care what you do but I will find out the information I need from you.” 

“Why?” Minho sneered. “So you can run to your beloved King and tell him all of my dirty secrets? I hate to break it to you, but I have nothing to tell you.” 

Minho tried. He really did, but the way the man’s face contorted angrily caused laughter to bubble past Minho’s chapped lips uncontrollably. 

“Won’t be laughing much longer once I’m through with you.” The man shook Minho’s head around and that was when Minho noticed a rolling trolley cart tot he left of him with various objects on it like scalpels and pliers. 

Minho sighed through his nose once his laughter subsided and tried to blow his hair out of his eyes. “Whatever. Get it over with.” 

This time, the man laughed and stood from his seat. “I’ll be sure to have fun.” His eyes glinted in the low light as he picked up a bat. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho spat out the blood that collected in his mouth, landing in the middle of the scientist’s lab coat with a satisfying splat. Bullseye. 

“That punch was a solid five out of ten.” Minho laughed, ignoring the blood trickling into his mouth from his nose. He wasn’t concerned; his body healed much faster than most races. “Come on, you can do better than that.” 

A vein popped from the scientist’s neck as he sent a nervous glance at his tray. He had used almost every tool yet Minho wasn’t giving up. 

“Just tell me who sent you!” The scientist screamed at Minho but Minho only laughed harder. “Who sent you to assassinate Jisung!” 

“That’s Prince Jisung, to you.” Minho grinned lazily even though his split lip hurt like hell. “I don’t ask questions. I just do.” Lies but Minho doesn’t care. He doesn’t have enough integrity to care. 

“You absolutely disgusting creature.” He snatched Minho’s jaw with his blood-covered fingers and Minho only chuckled at his distressed face. “You’re actually pretty cute. Wouldn’t it be a shame if I permanently change it?” 

“Oh, for sure.” Minho snorted and tried to roll his eyes but his left eye had swollen to the point where he could no longer open it. “I quite like my face.” 

The scientist released Minho’s jaw and wiped his bloody fingers on his lab coat. He eyed Minho’s pathetic state before he gave Minho one last punch to his jaw. 

The sardonic grin that adorned Minho’s lips only stretched wider when he stuck out a leg, successfully tripping the man before him. Manic laughter bubbled out of Minho as the man floundered for something to grab on only to fall into the mixture of water and blood on the floor. The rolling trolly cart skidded away only to crash into the wall with a loud clang, the various objects crashing on the metallic surface. 

“How can you be a scientist if you’re so goddamn stupid?” Minho used his foot to catch the back of the collar of the lab coat the scientist wore and tugged upwards. The man choked before he swatted Minho’s foot away. 

“I’m an interrogator!” He bitterly spat as he rubbed his sore neck and picked himself up. “It’s a highly respected job in this castle, don’t mock me!”

Minho only gave the man before him a teasing smile, his pearly white teeth on full display. He really should control himself before the interrogator actually loses what’s left of his mind. 

After a quick second to breathe, the interrogator collected his composure and fetched the runaway cart. “I’ll come back with worse.” He sneered as he unlocked the cell door and rolled the trolley cart away, humming a nursery rhyme under his breath. 

“I’ll be waiting.” Minho winked, or at least tried to, and laughed obnoxiously at the interrogator’s disgusted face as he locked the cell door behind him. 

“Park Hoonwong~” Minho sang despite the fact that the man was long gone. He rolled the name across his tongue and loved the bitter taste of it. Another enemy to add to his ever-extending list. “The idiotic interrogator who still writes his name on the tag of his clothes. What an honor it is to hate you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho blinked out of his half asleep, half awake trance when the sound of keys jingling broke the otherwise silent room. 

“You’re back,” Minho’s hoarse voice greeted Park Hoonwong as he pulled a cart into the room. A boxy machine sat on top of the cart with various dials and buttons scattered about. Wires connected to the machine with circular cloth pads on the other end. “What’s that?” Minho asked when the man in front of him didn’t respond. 

“What I found out,” the interrogator began, ignoring Minho’s question, “is that you are one of the Descendants of Eunbyeol.”

Minho narrowed his eyes. _How does he know?_

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, don’t be stupid,” Hoonwong said with a flippant gesture of his hand. “Who doesn’t know how it was prophesied that a descendant of the goddess Eunbyeol has the power to rival the King of Korea? I mean, that is the reason why your ancestors are dead, isn’t it? I remember when it was announced that the royal guards had exterminated the last of your kind. It was a glorious day but clearly, they missed one.” 

Fury thumbed through Minho’s body as Hoonwong spoke of his family’s death as if it was nothing. Memories of his father’s fearful shouts and his mother’s last desperate cry for Minho to run filled his mind and left Minho feeling cold and empty. Minho could still smell the thick metallic scent of blood and could still see the mutilated bodies of his neighbors whenever he closed his eyes despite the fact that it had happened years ago. 

A sadistic smile slowly spread across his thin face when Minho didn’t respond. “Am I right? Oh, who am I kidding, of course, I’m right!” He started to hum as he fiddled with his machine, sadistic joy dancing in his crazy eyes. “I knew you were a disgusting creature and I was right. All you mutants truly are abominations; humans are far superior, don’t you think?” 

“The tiger goddess who played amongst the stars until she slipped and fell to the earth. Isn’t that how it went?” Hoonwong bent at the waist so he could see Minho’s face clearly. “I wish the humans killed her instead of helping her. That way _you_ wouldn’t exist.” 

Minho gritted his teeth as an irresistible urge to punch the man washed over him. “We are just as natural as humans.” 

“I suppose.” Park Hoonwong began to stick the circular cloth pads onto various parts of Minho’s head. “But that doesn’t make you any less disgusting or normal.”

“Tell that to the universe.” Minho tried to yank his head away from the scientist but he clamped a hand onto Minho’s jaw, rendering him unable to move. 

Park Hoonwong chuckled as he stuck the last pad onto Minho’s head. “Well, the past is the past, all you disgusting creatures were created for a reason, I supposed I can let go of a grudge. I am a saint after all.” 

The interrogator laughed at his own joke as Minho glared daggers at him. “If you’re a saint, then I’m God.” 

Inserting a yellow crystal into a cavity atop of the machine, the interrogator glanced at Minho with a slight tilt of his head. “The only thing you are is a fun animal to experiment on.” His face seemed to have split in half from the wide grin tugging at his lips. Minho watched as his boney fingers hovered over certain dials and knobs before turning a few. He chuckled briefly before he switched one last switch. 

The bitter remark on the tip of Minho’s tongue was quickly forgotten as red, hot, fiery pain shot through his head then to the rest of his body. His limbs were paralyzed in place and he had no choice but to accept the pain. Something seemed to vibrate under his skin, threatening to rip off his flesh from the inside out. His vision blurred before the pain suddenly disappeared, only to leave lingering aches.

The man before Minho sneered mockingly. “Fun isn’t it?” 

Minho didn’t respond and instead focused on calming his erratic heart. He heard a short chuckle before his body tensed again and the same scorching pain shot through his body but with more intensity than before. 

The interrogator laughed maniacally as Minho slumped forward after the last shock. He lifted Minho’s head and scanned his face before letting go once satisfied. His chin rested against his chest. 

What the actual purpose of the machine was, Minho had no idea, but monsters made from lightning seemed to be caged beneath his skin, clawing desperately to get out. Their sharp claws only left Minho’s body aching and tingly, his eyes unfocused, and his mind fuzzy. It was as if puffs of cotton were shoved through every crevice of his brain, blocking all coherent thoughts he could have. Minho could barely distinguish the low hum from the machine from the ringing in his ears. The local church seemed to have found that the best location for the church bell was in his eardrums.

“What I’m doing to you is sending electrical signals to your body but most importantly your brain,” the lunatic explained but it seemed as if he was underwater, his voice muffled and nearly incomprehensible. “I’m surprised you last this long, to be frank, but this also excites me. I wonder how much you can endure.” 

“Do your worst,” Minho choked out, unable to hold back his snarky remarks. He’s pretty sure there’s a bit of dribble along his chin but he can’t find it within himself to care. 

Park Hoonwong snorted before he fiddled with the knobs on the machines. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” 

Minho involuntarily threw his body back and the wooden chair below him threatened to tip over as his body tensed and convulsed once again. The now-familiar pain blazed below his skin but at a greater intensity than before. Minho choked on an unheard scream that threatened to spill past his lips. If the machine wouldn’t tear his skin apart, then Minho would gladly do it himself. He would do anything to get these lightning demons out from under his skin.

He slumped forward once again when the shocks subsided and gritted his teeth to ground himself, to distract himself from the lightning that seemed to dance below his skin. 

“Not so talkative anymore, hm? Cat got your tongue?” Park Hoonwong crackled. “Let’s take it up a notch.” 

He moved to squat in front of Minho before he pulled out a pocket knife and sliced through the rope tying Minho to the chair. “You won’t need this any longer,” He said before he pulled Minho up by his shirt collar and tossed him to the dirty floor. Minho hit the ground with a small grunt before he heard the wood crack and a loud bang from when the man kicked the chair out of the way. 

Minho’s eyes flew open as his body tensed from the electricity coursing through his body. His body convulsed and shuttered, his mouth stretched open from a silent scream. The pain seemed to douse his whole body and trickle through until Minho’s mind seemed to slowly shut down, his consciousness dripping out of him until he was left on the brink. 

Minho welcomed the familiar feeling of slowly passing out. Unconsciousness tasted sweet on his tongue, thick like sap from spring trees. The cotton in his mind must’ve been soaked with water, the liquid drowning his awareness. Slowly but surely will he be released from the pain and misery that flowed through his blood like oxygen. 

Life has never been fair and Minho, God forbid that he’d forget, Minho for sure knows that life isn’t fair, and yet in the situation which he was currently in, Minho couldn’t help but curse the deities above. 

Why him? Minho would give anything for a regular, happy life. Not having to worry about what he’d have to do next in order to make sure he could provide for everyone he cared for, not having to worry about if they’d be safe. 

Minho supposed that this was life’s way of making him repent for his sins. 

His body jerked once more before he heard the sound of something sparking then exploding, the smell of sulfur infiltrated the air as Park Hoonwong yelped. 

Minho paid no mind to anything that was happening around him. How could he when his body felt as if it was simultaneously ripping apart yet compressing together. He glanced at his body and realized that he was shifting but it was drastically different from the other times that he had shifted. If Minho wasn’t in so much pain, perhaps he would have been scared. 

The whole process felt unnatural and forced, extremely painful and agonizing. The involuntary shift made his brain fuzzy and his stomach nauseous. Choking back the bile that threatened to claw its way up Minho’s throat, Minho squeezed his eyes shut.

Despite his closed eyes, the world around him still spun like the little wooden spinning top toys Hyunjin and Felix would play with. Minho curled into himself, wrapping his arms around his knees as if he could hold himself together, but it was a fruitless attempt when the telltale sign of his ribs cracking echoed in Minho’s pain-filled mind. If Minho wasn’t choking on the pain soaring through his body, he would have heard how his skin tore apart and how his bones crashed against one another like angry waves against an unmoving cliffside. 

After what seemed like hours, the pain subsided partially and the only sound in the small cell was Minho’s rugged breathing. Cracking his eyes open slowly, Minho’s blood ran cold as he realized that he didn’t complete his shift. He couldn’t. 

The first thing he noticed was that only one eye had successfully shifted. His left eye saw the world as how he normally would, whereas his right eye viewed his surroundings differently. The spiderwebs in the dark and dusty corners were a lot more noticeable now. 

He glanced at his hands as he panted and tried to catch his breath. Claws protruded from his knuckles but they were misaligned and bloodied, tuffs of golden fur with slashes of black scattered across his arms in disgusting matted patches. 

Minho didn’t even want to look down and see the disfigured and horrid mutated monster he was. He could tell that the lower half of his body had transformed the most; from the pain he was experiencing to the hypersensitive sensations his body felt, Minho knew that the sight would not be pretty. 

After a beat of silence, Park Hoonwong exhaled. “Wow! I can’t believe that actually worked. Who knew that putting your body under extreme stress would cause you to transform? Wait, I did because I’m a motherfucking genius.” The interrogator crackled and Minho wished he could kill the bastard but he couldn’t. It hurt to even breathe and Minho was sure that a rib was broken.

Minho gritted his teeth and tried to suppress a cough because it hurt way too much to even think about moving. “Fuck you.” 

The interrogator only laughed and kicked his broken rib. “You wish.” 

Minho couldn’t hold it back any longer before he retched a mixture of bile and blood onto the cold concrete floor. The wheels of the cart passed by as Minho tried to blink away the black dots from his vision and catch his fleeting breath. When the sound of the metal jail door closing ricocheted throughout the cold cell, Minho squeezed his eyes shut and ignored how he could taste the metallic tinge of blood when he coughed and the wetness that pooled around various parts of his body. 

Squeezing his eyes with as much force he could muster, Minho sent a prayer to gods he never believed in with a pointless sense of hope. He prayed that he’d wake up in his bed with Hyunjin and Felix by his side. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung made up his mind even if it was a terribly stupid idea.

Jisung descended the winding stone stairs as quickly as his thin legs would allow him to. The pebble he accidentally kicked echoed as it made its quick descent down the steep steps. He shivered and realized that perhaps he should have brought a jacket. 

He pushed an aging wooden door open and scrunched his nose from disgust. It smelled like mildew and piss mixed with a strange metallic scent that Jisung couldn’t quite put his finger on. 

Opting to just ignore the foul smell, Jisung walked past a cell, his eyes skimming past a curled-up figure lying on the stone cot. It must’ve been uncomfortable, Jisung couldn’t help but feel sympathetic for that boy but he couldn’t do anything about it. At least not right now. 

The obvious conditions of the cells deteriorated as Jisung walked to the cells farther away. His blood pounded loudly in his ears and perspiration made his hands clammy and his temple sticky. Jisung reached the last cell that was clearly the most unkempt out of all cells and couldn’t help how his heart fell out of his asshole. 

Now, Jisung shouldn’t feel sympathetic for the creature that laid on the disgusting cell floor especially since he attempted to MURDER Jisung, but the poor and pathetic state he was in was heartwrenching for anyone with a single ounce of sympathy. A frown tugged at the corners of his lips as he observed the deformed figure instead of hatred and anger like he expected

The boy’s head lifted slightly and peered at Jisung from his peripheral vision. “What, are you finally not going to be a coward and finish me off now?” He laughed dryly but winced shortly after. That was when Jisung noticed just how pitiful his condition was. 

His pupils were thin slits; his right iris was pitch black, so black that Jisung didn’t know where the pupil ended and his iris began. The left was a startling steel grey that Jisung could see even though it was almost swollen shut. His two eyes juxtaposed from each other although nothing remained in his eyes; no pain, no anger, nothing. It was more frightening than if anger burned brightly behind them. This was a man with nothing left to lose. 

Based on the research Jisung had briefly conducted before going to see him, Jisung knew that he was supposed to be able to transform into a tiger but it did not prepare him for what was before him. 

The boy’s assumably, once beautiful, tiger coat was marred with red from the unnatural half transformed state. Parts of his body bent in peculiar ways, lumps which Jisung assumed were bones that did not have enough time to lock into their proper position, stuck out of his body at various angles. His legs were morphed into its tiger form, revealed through the torn fabric of his pants. Something protruded near his hip and Jisung was pretty sure that it was his femur. Blood collected and pooled around the boy in various locations, some already drying up substantially, others growing at a steady pace. Jisung wasn’t sure how he had yet to bleed to death. 

“What are you waiting for? Fucking kill me already.” Minho’s voice was hoarse yet sturdy considering his condition. 

“I’m not here to kill you.” Jisung was surprised at how sure he sounded.

The boy in front of him laid his head back down onto the concrete floor almost as if he was disappointed. “Then leave me alone.” He sounded exhausted.

Jisung’s eye twitched, annoyance replacing his pity. “I’m trying to help you.” Jisung was growing impatient- this fool should be grateful that he was going to save him from more torture. 

“I don’t need your help,” Minho lashed out but grimaced immediately.

“Could’ve fooled me. Now, shut the fuck up and let me help you. You need it.” A dry scoff left Jisung’s chapped lips and he didn’t know where the confidence was coming from, but he was grateful nonetheless. 

“I don’t NEED fucking anything. Who are you to declare what I do or don’t need?” His eyes sparked in anger, overtaking the previous hollowness. “Were you even listening when I told you what I’ve been through before? I can take care of myself.” 

Jisung glanced down at him with annoyance before he opened the gate and plopped down next to Minho, who breathed heavily. Jisung could guess that it was more to do with the pain of half transforming than being angry. With a slightly shaky hand, Jisung reached for the boy before him, inches away from his soft black hair before he lashed out again.

“Don’t fucking touch me.” Of course, Jisung ignored him and reached to brush his sweaty hair away from his face. Jisung must be a masochist since he ignored all warning signs of possible danger. “I SAID DONT FUCKING TOUCH ME.” 

Without a second to process what was happening, Jisung found himself lying on his back and choking on his surprise. Minho, the disgruntled and dying boy Jisung had come for, hovered above him, panting heavily. Minho, the boy with peculiar and sad eyes, pinned his shoulders to the floor below, his body between Jisung’s leg. From this position, Jisung could see a rib bone protruding from the tatters of his shirt, moving with the erratic breathing of the stygian-black-haired boy. 

“Have you ever,” he hissed out, an eerie calm washing over him, “had strange substances forced down your throat that left your legs numb for days after? Had fingers raw and bleeding from trying to clean a stain that would never disappear because if you didn’t, you’d be beaten half to death?” Minho’s eyes flared with anger and fury and Jisung did not want to be at the recipient's end of it. “I had to put myself back together after every night, after every client,” he spat out his sentence as if it was a poison that polluted his very existence. “You know shit about me. You don’t know what I need or what I don’t need.”

Jisung could feel Minho’s warm and sticky blood seep into his clothes and could smell the metallic tang of the crimson fluid. The boy above him was damaged beyond possible repair but Jisung needed him even if it’ll cost him his life. 

“Ever had a stranger’s fluids drip out of you?” Minho continued, not waiting for Jisung to respond. “It was an alien feeling at first, but you get used to it. Kind of have to if you were in my situation.” 

Jisung couldn’t form any coherent words, eyes wide as he stared at the boy above him. Minho scoffed when Jisung continued to remain silent. “Cat got your tongue?” He laughed but it was dry and humorless, pain flashed across his eyes but it quickly returned to its lackluster state. It took a while before the broken boy slowly shifted off of Jisung. The adrenaline from earlier seemed to have started to wear off and leave him to deal with the pain by himself.

Jisung remained where he laid on the dusty floor and stared at the moldy ceiling as he contemplated his next move. He knew it would be hard to convince the assassin, but he had to try. Better to die trying than to not try at all. 

“Shut the fuck up.”

Jisung blinked. Once, twice, three times. His mind reeled from trying to decide what he could’ve possibly done now to make Minho more irritated. 

“What?” Jisung asked, bewildered. 

“I said shut the fuck up. You’re breathing so loudly.” 

Anger tugged at Jisung’s brow as a snarky rebuttal formed on the tip of his tongue. As Jisung opened his mouth to tell Minho exactly what he thought of him, the scrunch of the boy’s eyebrows and the sweat dripping down his temples made Jisung swallow his words. Minho grunted as he pushed himself onto his back, chest rising and falling at a rapid pace. 

Seconds went by before peculiar sounds echoed in the nearly empty cell; popping of joints mixed with the sounds of bones snapping together bounced off the walls and caused goosebumps to form on Jisung’s arms. Jisung watched as the random tufts of fur along Minho’s skin seemed to melt away into puffs of golden dust, his misaligned claws retracted back into his hand, and his legs- they took the longest to return to their human state. The bone structure of his leg was the first to change; most of the weird sounds coming from the shifting bones. The femur that jutted out attached properly with a tired grunt from the boy before the rest of the bones followed suit. The fur disappeared soon after, leaving behind the natural leg hair. Sweat dripped from his temple as he let out a finalizing huff of air. 

“So, what do you want?” Minho coughed out, a dribble of blood ran down the corner of his mouth. “What do you REALLY want?” 

Although he had managed to successfully transform back, blood continued to flow from his body, his skin unnaturally pale. At least the bones that protruded out of his body were back into their proper places. 

Jisung remained silent for a second before he sat up. “I told you already; I’m here to help you.” 

“Oh, cut the bull crap.” Minho laughed again, waving his hand in the air as if he was shoo-ing Jisung’s inadequate answer away. “You and I both know that that’s a lie.”

Chewing on his lower lip, Jisung decided that it was either now or never. “I need your help,” Jisung confessed. 

Minho turned his head slightly to peer at Jisung, his matted bangs nearly covering his eyes. “Oh? YOU need MY help? Why would the great and mighty Han Jisung need a pathetic, disgusting lowlife like me?” 

“Because my father needs to be stopped.” 

A palpable tension grew in the room as the other boy mulled over Jisung’s answer. Jisung couldn’t tell what he was thinking; his eyes were closed and his breathing stilled to almost a standstill despite the fact that he must’ve still been in a tremendous amount of pain. 

“What made you suddenly come to your senses?” Malice dripped from the words Minho whispered but it echoed in the small, empty cell. Jisung suddenly wasn’t sure if he would leave this cell scratch-free. 

“I told you that he’s destroying this country. I’ve had enough of his shit. He’s becoming tyrannical and so many people are being hurt because of his selfish desires. I want to make sure that my father would not be able to hurt anyone else but I can’t do it alone.” 

“And? Why me?” His words were softer this time, almost as if he was asking himself than Jisung. 

“Because you- you’re someone who actually has a chance. The prophecy-” 

“Do you actually believe that crap?”

Jisung flinched at Minho’s accusatory tone. “Wha- what?”

“Prophecy this, prophecy that. Isn’t it all just some bullshit that some guy sprouts when he gets high?” Minho’s laughter was borderline manic. “The universe can’t be predicted.”

A few silent seconds passed and Jisung had no idea what to say. It wasn’t even like Minho was wrong, but Jisung knew he wasn’t completely right either. Jisung’s heart pounded in his chest as he waited for Minho’s response. 

“No. Get someone else.” 

Jisung knew that Minho would most likely reject his offer but Jisung couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed. “I knew you were going to deny me,” Jisung muttered under his breath but he knew that Minho heard anyway. 

Running a hand through his blue hair, Jisung sighed before standing up to leave. “Guess I’ll just ask Jeongin. I’m sure he knows at least as much as you.” Jisung turned to leave but he wasn’t able to get very far before he felt a vice-like grip around his ankle. Glancing down with faux indifference, Jisung cocked an eyebrow. “What is it?” 

Minho was on his stomach now, face down on the dirty floor, arm extended to stop Jisung from moving any further. A vein in Minho’s arm tensed from the tight grip he had around Jisung’s ankle but Jisung refused to cry out from the pain Minho was inflicting even if he was sure there was going to be a bruise the next morning. 

Perhaps it was cruel for Jisung to use that tactic, but it was the only way Jisung could get him on his side. 

“How and why do you have him?” Minho’s voice sounded muffled due to the fact that he was talking into the floor. 

“What?” Jisung asked, continuing his act of indifference. 

“Can you not fucking hear?” The boy flicked his head up, exposing the fire burning behind his eyes. His eyes were now human, but one remained the same steel grey color and the other was almost pitch black. Despite the difference in color, both eyes had nothing but pure fury reflecting in his multi-colored irises. It scared Jisung, straight down to his very core. “How and why do you have Jeongin?” 

Jisung struggled to swallow his fear, praying that the boy before him couldn’t tell. Squatting down so that they were eye to eye, Jisung stared back into the boy’s terrifying eyes.

“Guess who tried to look for their Hyung who was gone a few days too long? I gotta applaud you though, you have such loyal companions even if they’re stupid enough to fetch you in one of the most secure places in this country.” Minho’s eyes barely twitched but it was enough to tell Jisung that he had him; Minho would definitely agree now. 

“Too bad he failed,” Jisung whispered as if Jeongin’s fate was sealed forever. “Now excuse me,” Jisung began as he stood up, knees cracking. “I need to talk to Jeongin. At least he’s more civilized than you.” 

Jisung turned to leave, however a whisper so quiet that Jisung almost missed, stopped him from leaving.

“I’ll do it.” 

“Excuse me?” Jisung sneered, despite the relief flooding his veins. “Say that again, loud and clear this time.” 

“Fuck you” 

“Now, that isn’t a very nice thing to say.” A relieved smile stretched across Jisung’s face as Jisung shook off the boy’s grip on his ankle which had slackened considerably throughout the entire exchange. 

Minho obviously didn’t care about Jisung’s taunting comment. Instead, he pushed himself onto two wobbly and unstable legs. “Take me to Jeongin,” he said once he managed to not fall over, which Jisung had to give him props for. 

Biting his lip in concentration, Jisung scanned him briefly since Minho was now standing and it gave Jisung a clear view of him. Jisung had to hand it to him though, Minho was shaking like a leaf but his eyes held an undeniable sense of determinism that Jisung couldn’t help but admire. 

“Follow me.” 

To Jisung’s surprise, Minho did indeed follow him although his face resembled a statue carved from marble, he walked like one too; stiff and upright. He was leaving a trail of blood behind him and Jisung wasn’t sure if it was fresh or old blood.

Jisung paused in front of a cell and watched how Minho’s stony facade broke to reveal a softer, more genuine expression. He couldn’t help but be surprised, how can someone who murders others for a living have the capacity to love? 

“Jeongin,” Minho breathed out before his face hardened again, “What the hell are you doing here?” 

“Hyung!” The young boy exclaimed as he sat upright quickly. He jumped off the cot and made his way to the wrought iron bars that separated them. “You’re alive!” 

“Of course I’m fucking alive,” Minho scoffed and Jisung couldn’t help but roll his eyes. 

Jeongin must’ve been used to Minho’s brash personality since his face only split to form a wide grin and pulled the older for a hug despite the bars between them. 

“Ah, fuck,” Minho swore, his eyes squeezed close as his eyebrows furrowed together.

Jeongin peered at his Hyung through his bangs as he gave him a questioning look. “Hyung are you- oh my God, you’re bleeding.” 

“Yes, Jeongin.” Minho exhaled through his nose. “I am bleeding. Thank you for the very insightful observation.” 

“Hyung, you need to-” 

“Jeongin,” Minho interrupted the younger boy mid-sentence with a pointed stare. “You need to go. Right now.” 

“But-”

“No buts.” Jeongin glared at Minho, who very blatantly ignored him and instead turned to look at Jisung with a look that made it seem as if it pained his very existence to even do so. 

Jisung chewed on his lower lip in contemplation before he sighed and fished the keys out of his pocket. Tossing it to Minho, who caught it effortlessly, Jisung gestured to the keyring with his chin. “The small silver key.” 

Although Jisung wasn’t expecting much, a flash of irritation caused his eye to twitch when Minho didn’t even bother to mutter thanks or let alone do something to signify that he heard Jisung. The older boy only found the right key and unlocked the cell. 

For the first time, Jeongin sent a quick glance in Jisung’s direction as Jisung leaned on the iron bars and crossed his arms. “Um, not that I don’t want to leave, but why are you doing this?” 

Jisung shrugged and gave the young boy a warm smile. “I’m a nice person.” 

Minho laughed briefly as he walked into the cell and ripped the barred window out of the wall. Bits of the stone wall and loose rocks flew through the air and landed on the grey concrete floor with a loud bang. Dust filled the air as Jisung’s jaw slackened and his eyebrows disappeared behind his fringe. A quick glance in Jeongin’s direction told Jisung that the young boy was also not expecting Minho to do that. 

“You’re letting Jeongin go because you already have what you came for. You don’t need the insurance anymore.” Minho’s dissimilar irises bore into Jisung’s and seemed to analyze his every move. He seemed to know hundreds of different ways to end Jisung’s life if he even dared to breathe. 

Jisung bit his lower lip and stared back. He didn’t bother to think of an excuse to save what Jeongin thought of him; it didn’t matter since Jisung wouldn’t see the younger boy ever again. 

A few seconds passed before Minho ended their small staring contest and glanced at the younger boy, eyes immediately melting. “Go, go now.” 

The hole that Minho had managed to create in the wall was small but luckily for the Jeongin, he was a small boy. 

“Wait, what about you? I’m not leaving without you.” Crossing his arms, Jeongin stood his ground and jutted his lower lip out. Minho only sighed and placed his hands on his hips. 

“I can’t go. I can’t fit through the hole.” 

“Then just make it bigger.” Minho gave the younger boy an incredulous look and Jeongin’s resolve immediately crumbled. 

Jeongin’s eyes watered before his lower lip trembled. He choked back a sob as he gave his Hyung a bone-crushing hug. “What about the others?” 

Minho seemed to age a few years as he released a sigh. He hugged the younger boy back, his eyes growing wise as if he had seen things people his age shouldn’t. “Tell them that I’m dead.” 

Exhaustion clouded Minho’s face, his under-eye bags suddenly a lot more prominent and a lot darker. Despite the pain the older boy must’ve been going through, Minho made it seem like he was perfectly fine. He held himself together with such conviction, Jisung almost forgot about his injuries himself. It was clear that he cared for Jeongin and the other people they were talking about since Minho fought so hard to keep himself together. 

Jisung cast his eyes to the dusty floor under his feet, suddenly feeling that he was intruding on something personal. 

“Hyung-”

“Don’t do anything dumb.” 

A beat of silence passed before the younger boy spoke up again. “You too, Hyung.” Jeongin’s whisper was so soft that Jisung barely caught it before the cold wind from the gaping hole in the wall whisked it away. 

“Are you just going to stand there and stare at your shoes or are you going to do something?” 

Jisung snapped his head up when Minho’s cold and indifferent voice interrupted his train of thoughts. The once occupied cell was now empty; the only sign that someone was once there was the messy blanket and the hole in the wall. 

“Oh right.” Jisung cleared his throat awkwardly before Minho tossed him the keys back. Jisung could feel the heat crawl up his neck when he fumbled to catch the ring of keys and chose to ignore Minho’s judgmental look. 

Opting to not sputter an excuse, Jisung brushed off the dust on his hands and gestured to the exit. “Well, follow me.” 

Now that Jisung was thinking about it, what was he going to do after this? He didn’t actually think his plan would work. He should’ve thought ahead and thoroughly planned everything out. 

Jisung grabbed the cold and rusty doorknob, stepping aside once he opened it to let Minho head up first. “Alright, you can go- hey, are you coming or what?” 

Minho did not follow Jisung to the door like the younger boy expected but instead leaned against the iron bars. He lifted his head up and his mismatched eyes tried to focus on Jisung but his eyes were glossed over, a thin sheen of sweat atop of his cupid’s bow glistened in the faint candlelight before he pushed himself off the bars and took a tentative step forward. 

Nervousness sunk to the bottom of Jisung’s stomach like a heavy stone-- Minho did not look good. Well, his smooth skin and clear complexion, as well as his soft hair that clung to his forehead, was pretty hot in Jisung’s opinion, but his pale, sickly skin and trembling figure erected red flags in Jisung’s brain. 

Minho took another wary step forward before it seemed like someone flipped off a switch. Minho fell to the ground like a large sack of potatoes. 

“Oh, fuck.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi! I'm Eri and here is my fanfic that is practically my scorned child. This has been in the works for about a year and a half and I'm super excited to finally share this with the world. It went through a lot of changes, a lot of cuts, and a lot of neglect, but I finished and I've never been more proud of myself. 
> 
> I hope everyone enjoys :) I'll try to update weekly! 
> 
> Please leave a comment, I love comments. 
> 
> (no one beta read this, sorry for any grammar mistakes or if something is confusing!)


	2. Resfeber

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Resfeber: A Swedish noun for the complicated emotions felt before traveling. 
> 
> Minho and Jisung meet a few new people and figure out the game plan.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Enjoy :>
> 
> Also if you noticed a typo in the previous chapter, no you didn't <3

A soft sigh slipped past Minho’s chapped lips involuntarily as he slowly but surely woke up from his slumber. 

Minho dreamt of a lazy day with Hyunjin and Felix by his side. They laid somewhere with an endless, clear blue sky and gentle green grass, sipping an orange drink with faint notes of mint. Jeongin and Seungmin were there too, Minho could hear them laughing in the background.

Escaping from reality was never a viable option for Minho, unfortunately, so accepting that perhaps it was time to get up was an unfortunate reminder.

Minho’s senses slowly began to wake up soon after his mind. Comfort enveloped him in the form of something soft, something warm and fuzzy. It wrapped around him and served as a reminder of Felix’s hugs. Minho was perfectly fine with staying exactly where he was for a couple more hours, but something bright was starting to shine in his eyes and annoy him. His body was also starting to ache all over and he suddenly didn’t feel too well. 

He couldn’t help but groan. _Just a few more minutes…_

Something heavy scraped along the floor causing Minho’s eyebrows to furrow. Gosh, why can’t people just let him be? 

His calloused fingers ran across the soft, velvet fabric that covered his sore body, and relished in the way it felt. The blanket felt expensive, much more than he'd ever been able to afford. Where’d he get this?

_Wait,_

Minho’s eyes flew open and sat up despite his body screaming in protest. His forehead came into contact with something solid and a loud clang echoed throughout the room. 

“Where am I?” 

“Shit! Fuck!” 

Blinking his eyes a few times, Minho’s eyes adjusted to the bright light from the rising sun and found the person he smacked foreheads with. A small figure squatted on the polar bear rug as he clutched his head between his hands. His rich blue hair practically shimmered in the sunlight and created a halo around the crown of his head. 

“Why is your forehead so hard?” The boy hissed as he whipped his head around and sent Minho a glare. His strikingly green eyes bore holes into Minho and Minho could only stare back. 

“Where am I?” Minho ignored Jisung’s question and opted to voice his own. 

Jisung’s eyes rolled in his skull as he responded nonchalantly, “you’re in my room, you know, the place where you tried to murder me.” 

Irritation flashed across Minho’s face from Jisung’s sarcastic response. “Why am I in your room?” 

“Because you passed out. What else was I supposed to do? Leave you in the cell?” 

“Yes, that would’ve been perfectly fine with me.” Minho couldn’t help but snap back. After failing his mission and realizing that he may never get to see any of his friends again, Minho did not want to micromanage his emotions. Plus it was true- he did almost murder Jisung- being polite was no longer an option. 

A scowl formed on Jisung’s face as the younger boy stood abruptly and placed his hands on his hips. “Listen- you’re supposed to help me, you can’t do that if you’re dead!” 

Minho laughed dryly before he tore the soft blanket away from his body and swung his legs off the bed. “Dying sounds good to me.” 

“Hey! You need to keep your end of the- Woah!” 

The dark walnut flooring suddenly disappeared from under Minho’s feet as he stood up. The floor spun closer and closer and Minho clenched his eyes closed to prepare for the eventual impact he knew was coming. 

However, the impact never came. 

“You need to be careful!” Jisung’s voice caught Minho by surprise.

Minho's brain, lethargic and foggy, slowly connected the dots and Minho realized that he never landed on the floor because of the pair of scrawny arms wrapped around him. 

Minho didn’t need to blink to clear his spinning vision to notice how close they were and couldn’t help it when heat rose quickly to his face. 

“Fuck off,” Minho couldn’t help but snark back to hide the embarrassment bubbling beneath his skin. He was supposed to be stronger than this, he was supposed to have taken this weak and naive boy’s life but instead, Minho was in his debt and there was nothing more than Minho hated more than owing someone. 

Shoving past Jisung, Minho’s light footsteps were like nails against a blackboard in the otherwise silent room as he made his way to what he assumed was the bathroom. Minho was proven correct when a grandiose bathroom greeted Minho as he opened the door. Slamming the door behind him, he hoped Jisung jumped at the loud noise. 

A mumbled curse slipped past Minho’s chapped lips as he dragged a hand across his tired face. It had been years since Minho had last felt this exhausted and his body ached in places that had never before. 

Reaching behind his neck to pull the thin white cotton shirt off his body, Minho ignored the sharp pain in his abdomen and tugged the material off. Red started to stain the otherwise pristine white bandages that wrapped around his torso as blood began to bleed through. Minho didn’t want to admit it but maybe he should be more careful. 

“Like hell I’d help that kid,” Minho growled before flinging the shirt roughly to the side. He needed to get out of here. He needed to go home.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho sat on a chair he dragged over to the corner of the room, arms crossed over his sore chest. Despite the fact that he often recovered quickly from injuries, he had to admit that the crazy scientist managed to seriously hurt him. He glared at nothing in particular and hated how he was hurt and couldn’t go back to the company. 

Back to the others. 

How were they holding up? Did they think that he was dead? Did Jeongin tell them that he was alive? 

Hell, Minho didn’t even know if he’d be accepted back after butchering the mission so badly. Was he a traitor?

Minho had no clue and it was eating him alive. Not knowing was like an itch below the surface of his skin that would not go away. 

“I’m back.” Jisung’s voice derailed Minho’s thoughts and brought the older boy back to reality. Minho narrowed in on the odd bundle Jisung’s carried but didn’t ask anything about it. 

“Okay fine. Don’t say anything.” Jisung grumbled under his breath but Minho heard anyway and rolled his eyes. “I found your stuff,” the blue-haired boy said as he tossed the bundle to Minho. 

Minho caught it effortlessly and unwrapped the rough material to reveal his belongings. From his katanas to his beloved steel-toed boots, they were all there. As relieved as he was to have his items back, he couldn’t help but be suspicious. 

“Why are you giving me these back?” Minho peered at Jisung as he pulled off the thin cotton shirt and slipped his own shirt back on, the tears from before magically seemed to have been repaired. It smelled like spring oranges and faint mint.

Jisung hastily turned to look at the ceiling as a faint blush dusted his round cheeks. “Well, if you’re going to help me then it’ll probably be best if you have all of your items.” 

Minho adjusted the knife in his hand and in four quick strides, Jisung found a knife pressed against his neck. Their faces were inches apart and Minho could feel the exact moment Jisung was caught off-guard. 

“I don’t know if I should applaud your stupidity or feel sorry for you.” Minho stared at the boy before him, unmoving. Jisung’s eyes were blown wide and his pupils shook pathetically. 

“Well, if you do kill me, Changbin will notify the guards and they’ll infiltrate your house and everyone you ever loved will be charged for treason.” Minho noticed the slight quiver in Jisung’s voice but he never broke eye contact. 

Scoffing, Minho pulled back and sheathed his knife. “There is no one you could possibly charge for treason. I have no one I love.” 

This time, Jisung was the one who scoffed. “Everyone loves someone.” 

Minho only glared at Jisung, growing disdain and annoyance for the younger boy. Who was he to say if he loved someone or not? 

“You’re just a naive child.” 

“Excuse me?” Jisung’s eyebrow shot up and disappeared behind his fringe. “And how old are you exactly? You can’t be that much older than me.” 

Minho ran a tired hand through his hair before turning back to put the rest of his gear on. “Why don’t you just leave that to me and leave me the fuck alone?”

“I can’t leave you alone, you have to help me. That’s what you promised.” 

“Your blackmail has no substance. It's utter bullshit.” 

“Lee Felix? Hwang Hyunjin? Are they bullshit?” 

_No way._

“I mean I just meant Yang Jeongin and I saw how you treated him. Not to mention Kim Seungmin.”

Minho’s ears rang when those names left Jisung’s lips. There’s no way Jisung could possibly know about them. Absolutely zero possibility.

Minho’s mouth opened then closed. Then opened again and closed again. For once, Minho didn’t know what to say. He suddenly felt cold and light, as if he wasn’t completely present in his body. 

“Yeah, I didn’t think so,” Jisung mumbled, for some reason a little gentler than before yet still firm. “If you don’t want them in prison, which is the best-case scenario, then I suggest that you help me.” 

“Who else knows about them?” Minho spat from clenched teeth. 

“That’s for me to know and for you to not worry about. But what I can tell you is that my father doesn’t know. Nothing will happen to them as long as you comply.” 

Minho squeezed his eyes shut and cursed the deities above for giving him this fucked up life. Slowly turning around, Minho opened his eyes and matched Jisung’s unwavering stare. 

“Fine.” 

Jisung’s composure relaxed for a moment before he uncrossed his arms. “Good. We leave tonight.” 

“Tonight?” According to the setting sun outside, they didn’t have much time if Jisung wanted to leave by nightfall. 

Jisung nodded grimly before moving across the room to his closet. “I can’t hide you forever, someone is bound to notice eventually. You’ve been here for too long.” 

Minho watched as Jisung started to take various objects out of his closet such as a satchel, throwing knives, and a traveler’s cloak. The embroidered crest of the royal family glimmered slightly as the fabric moved. 

Minho’s left eye twitched. Jisung was an utter idiot. 

Marching up to Jisung, Minho snatched the cloak out of Jisung’s arms and tossed it aside. “You’ll practically be walking around with a target on your back if you leave the castle wearing that.” 

Jisung’s mouth opened slightly and his eyes widened from Minho’s harsh movement but the younger boy didn’t say anything when Minho shoved him out of the way and peered into his closet. 

After examining what Jisung had in his closet, Minho found a deep blue cloak that looked black unless in direct sunlight. The material was of better quality than what most travelers would have, but it was better than the rich blue cloak with the royal crest on the back. 

“Here,” Minho mumbled, breaking the silence that had grown heavily in the room. 

“Thanks,” Jisung said, sounding a bit unsure. 

Minho sent him a sideways glance before giving his head a slight shake and brushing past. They’re going to die because of Jisung’s stupidity. Minho knew it already. 

“Do you need anything?” Jisung’s naive voice rang through the air. 

“N-“ Minho’s mouth opened to automatically shut down any form of possible help, but it dawned on him that this was a once in a lifetime opportunity. As someone who had to constantly count every cent and haggle for cheap prices, Minho could now easily ask for anything he wanted. 

Minho didn’t need anything but he’d be damned if he passed an opportunity to play with the boy. 

“Sure.” Minho shrugged. 

“Oh, uh, really?” Jisung looked taken aback. “Well, what do you need?”

Minho gave him his best reassuring smile, which did not seem to comfort Jisung in the slightest, and began to list every possible thing he could think of. “Well, obviously I’m going to need a few pairs of underwear, a new satchel, at least a month’s worth of money…”

Jisung’s pink tongue flicked out to moisten his lips as his eyebrows furrowed in concentration. As Minho finished listing everything he could possibly think of, Jisung looked a little green. 

“Did you get all of that?” Minho smugly glanced down at the younger boy, knowing full well that Jisung did not. 

“I don’t know if I can get you all of that,” his voice wavered. “Especially since we‘re supposed to sneak out. Getting all of that will be really suspicious.” 

Jisung ran a hand through his blue hair, causing bits of it to stick out at the base of his skull. Minho rolled his eyes and exhaled harshly through his nose. It wasn’t fun to exploit him if he didn't argue back. 

“I was joking. We just need the basics like a medkit and food and water. I don’t need much unlike you.” 

Minho watched as his words sunk into Jisung’s brain. He could see how his words affected Jisung when the young prince narrowed his eyes at Minho. 

“I don’t need much,” Jisung hissed back. “I’m only carrying the basics, too.” 

“Are you really?” Minho laughed and satchel from Jisung’s grasp. “Let’s see what you have in there then.” 

Turning the bag upside down, Minho dumped the contents to the floor. Various objects tumbled out and clanked against the wood flooring. Jisung’s jaw dropped as he glanced at his belongings and Minho. 

“What are you-“

“What is this? A sack of coins?” Minho thought out loud as he kicked a burlap sack. “You also have a medkit, a mirror, and- oh? What’s this?” Minho bent down to pick up a beaten-up leather journal. “Is this your diary?” Chuckling, Minho opened to a random page but before he could read anything, it was snatched from his hand. 

“It’s none of your goddamn business!” Jisung snapped. 

Minho lazily raised his gaze from his empty hands to stare down at the boy in front of him. Jisung glared at him, shooting daggers with his eyes. 

Crossing his arms, Minho felt a smug smile tugged at the corner of his lips. He didn’t know Jisung had it within him to raise his voice. “What’d you say?” 

“I said, it’s none of your goddamn business.” Jisung spat before dropping to his knees to clean up the mess Minho made. 

Turning around, Minho watched the sun slowly set. The time for them to leave was quickly approaching. “You don’t have much time to get what we need.” Almost time for Minho to leave everything behind. 

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Jisung grumbled before quickly walking past. Minho turned around in time to see the younger boy leave without another word, slamming the door shut behind him. 

Brushing it off, Minho turned back to look at the setting sun but was instead greeted with his reflection frowning back at him. Minho glared back before finding Jisung’s desk chair and sat down, suddenly finding the floor very interesting. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Here.” 

Eyes fluttering open, Minho caught the bag Jisung tossed at him before it could hit his face. 

“What is this?” Minho slurred, voice thick with sleep from his short nap. 

Jisung scoffed as he crossed his arms and glanced out the window. The sun no longer graced the trees with its warm golden light, instead, the moon’s melancholy shine gleamed through the windows. 

“It’s the stuff you wanted,” Jisung mumbled. The boy seemed to age a couple of years— his expression forlorn, eyebrows pulled close together, and lips pressed tight. “It’s time to go.” 

Rising, Minho slung the bag across his body and made sure everything else was in place. “Then let’s go.” 

Casting one last glance at him with an expression Minho couldn’t quite place, Jisung turned around and opened the door. 

This time, Minho could look around without worrying about being caught. The hallways were, with no surprise, the exact same. There were no hints of the infiltration just a few nights prior, which was good because Minho was supposed to be stealthy, but it still left a bitter taste in Minho’s mouth. 

Minho sacrificed everything for this mission, yet no trace of him remained. It was all for nothing. 

The soft click of the door closing behind Minho snapped him out of his thoughts. “Lead the way.” Minho feigned nonchalance. 

Jisung didn’t say anything as he brushed past and continued ahead. Despite the fact that Jisung seemed completely at ease and knew the castle better than Minho did, Minho still found himself on high alert— eyes constantly shifting from place to place, ears straining for any new noises. 

Minho knew that this was basically a suicide mission. Did Jisung really think he could help fulfill the prophecy? He wasn’t the main protagonist of an action novel and their chances of survival were slim. If anything, this was the perfect chance for Minho to escape. Minho’s not a guard dog, disposable and replaceable, something for someone to use. Jisung will have to do this himself. 

It felt like hours when they finally turned into a smaller, out-of-the-way hallway then into more and more hallways. When they finally reached an old, worn down door, Minho knew they were almost out. Minho fought to calm his errant heart and crossed his arms as if that would work. 

“Here we go,” Jisung exhaled as if to calm himself down. 

The door swung open with relative ease, letting the moonlight filter through and flood the dark hallway. It was nearly blinding yet Minho relished in the way the smell of nature coated everything and how the cold night hair brushed through his hair. 

“Don’t pull anything funny,” Jisung grumbled and remained in the shadows. 

Minho rolled his eyes, his surroundings suddenly not as magical as his mood soured. “Wasn’t planning to,” he lied. 

"Right." Jisung didn't believe him. "I know about the so-called _cleaning_ company you work at."

"I don't know what you're talking about." Minho's left eye twitched.

"I'm not as dumb as you think I am." Jisung shot him a glare over his shoulder, which Minho pointedly ignored. 

"Could've fooled me," Minho mumbled just loud enough for Jisung to hear.

"Shut up."

"No."

Jisung groaned but dropped the conversation as he led them behind the castle and into the thick forest. Memories of the night before flashed through Minho’s mind as his heart rate suddenly began to race once more. Minho pulled his arms tighter around his body. He focused on the uneven earth below him and only allowed himself to think about his steps. One foot in front of the other, then another, and another. 

The leaves around them rustled and whispered as they passed and Minho wouldn’t be surprised if they actually were gossiping about them. As he exhaled, his breath bellowed around him only to disappear into nothingness. Jisung’s hood covered his blue hair. It hung low and secured around his head. 

“We’re here.”

Jisung’s voice cut through the quietness as he suddenly came to a stop, causing Minho to nearly run into the younger boy. 

Minho tore his eyes from the ground beneath him to see the gaping ocean greeting him from far below. They stood at the edge of a cliff, several feet above sea level. The wind was rougher now that the trees weren’t there to protect them and Jisung’s hood was ripped from his head to reveal his fluffy and messy hair. A chill ran down Minho's spine due to how it was drastically colder out in the open but Minho found that he didn't really care. He could breathe now and he welcomed the chilly air as it flowed through his lungs. 

This ocean was different from what Minho was used to. What he was used to was the fishy odor that he had grown to subconsciously connect to grey and seaweed-infested waters. He was used to seeing the calloused hands of gruff seamen and sea women working on ships, some hardly in one piece due to the unforgiving nature of the ocean but they had learned to tame it. The ocean that Minho currently stood before was wild and untamed, dark, and seemingly endless. The salt in the air tickled Minho’s nostrils. The eerie quietness contrasted the loud calls of sailors that Minho had learned to ignore. The slapping of the water against the land was a reminder of how ruthless the ocean really was. 

“Oh, lovely. And how exactly are we going to get down to the ocean?” Minho glanced down the cliffside and accidentally kicked a few pebbles down. 

“There’s a pathway over this way,” Jisung gestured to his right. “No one really uses it but it should still be there.” 

True to his words, the pathway down was still there; however, the rocks that made the path were uneven and jagged. As they made their descent downwards, Minho watched as Jisung struggled and wobbled like a young deer. It took them longer than Minho would have liked, but it was better than Jisung falling down the entire cliff.

Or maybe Minho should have shoved Jisung down the cliff. If he did, he could go home. Even if he wasn't exactly sure which way was home. 

They reached the bottom and Minho came to the conclusion that Jisung wasn’t as hopeless as he thought he was. Minho was, unfortunately, proven otherwise when Jisung reached the last step and suddenly lurched forward as his foot caught on a rock. 

“GAH!” Jisung exclaimed as Minho’s hand snatched out and grabbed the back of his cloak, right before Jisung would kiss the beach hello. 

“You’re going to be the reason why we die. Keep your mouth shut,” Minho spat as he sent Jisung a glare, ignoring Jisung’s reciprocal look of annoyance. “And be more careful.”

In front of them, a ship floated peacefully in the dark ocean. The ship’s dinghy was beached on the shoreline as two large sailors seemed to wait for them. 

“Who are they?” Minho asked under his breath. “Pirates?”

“ _Merchants_ ,” Jisung hissed but kept his voice low as well. “They work for my father but they’re not completely loyal to the royal family,” he explained. “Close relations kind of thing and they owe me. They’re here to give us a ride to China.”

“You trust them to not run immediately to your father and expose the fact that you’re going to backstab him?”

An irritated sigh slipped past Jisung’s red lips. “As I said, they owe me.”

“And why exactly, by the way, are we going to China?” Minho bit his tongue to prevent himself from snapping at the attitude Jisung was giving him. 

“I’ll explain later,” Jisung hushed as they approached the sailors near the dinghy. 

“Prince Jisung, sir,” a male sailor greeted them. His partner, a female who was broader and taller than both of them combined, stood on the opposite side of the dinghy. She didn’t say anything yet Minho could feel her critical gaze examining his profile. 

Nodding back at the sailors, Jisung entered the dinghy gracefully as if he had done this many times before, which Minho wouldn’t be surprised if he had. Minho, on the other hand, was not as graceful, much to his dismay. He ignored the extended hand of the female sailor and instead clumsily sat across from Jisung. 

Eventually, the small boat began to move into deep water after the sailors pushed it back into the ocean. It didn’t take long before Minho was reminded of why exactly he hated the ocean or any large body of water for that matter. Biting his tongue as an attempt to hold back his nausea, Minho stared at the large ship resting in the water in front of them, growing bigger as they quickly approached it. 

The motor of the dinghy cut off and the leftover momentum was enough to bring them to the proper place beside the ship. Metal cords fell from above, tossed by someone invisible to them. It didn’t seem like the cords were strong enough, but perhaps through the power of magic or by other means, the cords were enough to lift them to the ship deck. 

The whole crew appeared to have been waiting for their arrival. Their eyes seemed to bore into Minho and he couldn’t help but squirm under their scrutiny. After all, they don’t know him and he was the only person accompanying the prince. 

Under the light of the moon and the torches held by the sailors, Minho could see what seemed to be hundreds of sailors. They varied in size and shape, yet all had auras of pure strength and courage. Jisung stood straight in front of them, comfortable and at ease with the sailors yet also in control as if he knew exactly where he stood. 

A tall woman broke through the middle of the crowd. A gold ornate headpiece rested on her forehead, her black hair braided to the side, loose strands messily framing her strong face. She stood straight and demanded respect through her sheer presence. Everyone seemed to suddenly correct their posture but all of the sailors looked at her respectfully. Her brown bear cape billowed in the wind as she peered down at Jisung with her hazel eyes 

“Jisung,” was all she said before a gentle and fond smile stretched across her face. “It’s great to see you again.” Her tongue formed the syllables with slight awkwardness but it was nearly indistinguishable. She opened her arms and Jisung didn’t hesitate to walk into them, a smile equally gentle and fond perched on his lips. 

“Ginora Noona.” The boy breathed. The smile Jisung wore was one that had never been directed at Minho before. As it stretched across his face, it made Jisung much more attractive than he already was. 

Ginora only embraced Jisung for a second before her gaze turned sharp as she found Minho. “And who are you?” 

As if he suddenly remembered that Minho was still there, Jisung whipped around, eyes blown wide and mouth agape. 

“Oh, Noona! That’s Minho, he’s my companion for this trip.” 

Resisting an eye roll, Minho forced a grimace as he bowed to her. 

She quickly scanned Minho before meeting his eyes. Tension seemed to grow thick around them as Minho met hers. After what seemed like hours, she gave him a quick, approving nod. 

“I see.” 

Her deep voice carried weight as it seemed as if the entire crew released a collective breath once those words left her lips. Minho’s gaze flicked to Jisung who immediately turned away as if Minho didn’t already know he was staring since Jisung introduced Minho to Ginora. An unidentifiable emotion momentarily flashed across the Prince’s face but it was gone as soon as it appeared. 

“Come.” Ginora’s voice commanded as her sharp gaze immediately softened once it fell onto Jisung. Jisung seemed to be oblivious of the thick tension hovering amongst the crew since a cheery ‘okay’ slipped easily from him. 

Ignoring the scrutinizing glares of the crew, Minho followed at a distance once Ginora turned and headed below deck, Jisung following close. The crew parted for the two but drew closer once Minho passed, causing their shoulders to clash against each other. He gritted his teeth and clenched his jaw to keep himself from saying something that would get him thrown overboard. The ship was moving now, gracefully cutting through the ocean, and Minho didn’t dare to look back at the shrinking landmass behind them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Are you alright?” 

A low voice broke through the silence that Minho had been savoring. The question wasn’t asked out of concern; it was merely to be polite. 

A few hours had gone by frustratingly slow since they'd disembarked. Minho had always hated large bodies of water and this was just a painful reminder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” Minho spat through clenched teeth. If he was to open his mouth a little more, something else other than words may slip past his lips. 

Minho vaguely registered the figure that moved to stand near him, leaving enough space for Minho to be comfortable with. She stood close to the rail but not quite leaning against it. Opting to ignore the woman, Minho focused on the salty water spraying across his face and the rough wind rustling his hair. God, how he wished he wasn’t on this wretched boat. 

“Why are you with Prince Jisung? You’re not friends with him,” Ginora said her words with certainty as if she couldn’t possibly be wrong. 

Minho resisted the urge to give her a smart answer and instead opted to exhale through his nose as if it would dispel the queasiness he felt. He cracked one eye open and peered at her, trying to decipher what she wanted. The captain of the ship only gazed out towards the sea, completely relaxed except for the sharp look in her eyes that seemed to disappear only when she was with Jisung. Her profile was sharp, from her defined nose to her hooded eyes, Ginora was not a soft woman, yet she was more relaxed than when Minho first met her. 

Her calloused hand tapped on the rail as she waited for his response. When several seconds passed by in silence, Ginora tore her attention away from the ocean to give Minho an impatient look. Minho didn’t try to hide the fact that he was staring and she didn’t shy away from his gaze. 

“Well?” Impatience seeped into her voice. 

Looking back to the ocean, the ship swayed to the rhythm of the waves and Minho resisted the sudden urge to vomit. 

“If you’re going to throw up, don’t get any on my ship.” 

“There goes my plan,” Minho muttered and received a dry scoff of laughter from Ginora. 

“You didn’t answer my question.” 

“I was forced to.” Minho really did not want to tell this woman what really happened, especially the fact that he tried to kill Jisung. But for some strange reason, he felt that she’d be able to tell if he was lying so Minho was at a loss for words. 

She hummed as if contemplating if his answer was sufficient. “I could tell that much, but why didn’t you run when you could?” 

Irritation flashed through Minho and he knew the woman saw it on his face when he heard a low but real chuckle from her. “Because he can hurt those I care about.” His irritation grew increasingly with each second she laughed at his answer. “What’s so funny?” 

Her laughter died as her hazel eyes met his own mismatched pair once again. Her black hair flowed freely and tumbled around her face, the ornate crown no longer resting on her head. She barely blinked when the ocean sent sprays of water and splashed against her profile. Minho wanted to squirm away from her sharp gaze. However, Minho held his ground. He was many things but a coward was not one. 

As if sensing his discomfort, Ginora sighed and appeared to have aged a few years. The tautness and the creases in her skin seemed more prominent as the late moonlight dusted her skin. 

“Did you really think Jisung would hurt anyone?” 

“Well, how would I know what he can or can't do?” Minho scoffed. 

Ginora didn’t seem fazed by Minho’s attitude. “He didn’t hurt you.” 

Minho’s mouth opened to rebut but he knew she was right. Jisung didn’t hurt him, not really anyway. The Prince tried to but definitely didn’t have it within himself to actually do serious damage. 

“If he can’t defend himself from an assassin, how would he be able to hurt the innocent?” 

Minho’s left eye twitched when Ginora made it clear that she knew what Minho had tried and failed to do. Confusion began to plague his mind as they stood there, analyzing each other. Why hasn’t she thrown him into the unforgiving ocean below them? 

“I’m not his mother,” Ginora spoke up as if she knew what Minho was thinking. “He can do what he wishes, but I would not hesitate to defend him if necessary.” 

Her words, although few, carried a lot of weight. She shifted and suddenly Minho became aware of the golden hilt of the broadsword resting at her hip. 

“Right.” Minho didn’t know what to say, suddenly regretting leaving his katanas in his room. 

Ginora didn’t say anything else before she turned around and left, but not before calling over her shoulder as she reached the entrance to the stairways down. “Be careful.” The two words were barely audible over the roar of the ocean and the howl of the wind, but Minho heard her nonetheless. 

Minho scoffed once he knew for sure that she wouldn’t hear. He wasn’t going to listen to her hollow advice. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Ginora Noona says we’ll reach land in about an hour.” 

Minho forced his eyes away from the rough sea to glance at the young boy next to him. Jisung must’ve woken up recently since sleep lines were visible along his left cheek. 

“Is that so?” Despite being aboard the ship for the whole night, Minho still felt seasick. Minho had not moved a single muscle from when Ginora left him. He refused to and if he even thought of doing so, waves of nausea overwhelmed him instantly. 

The rising sun gave the world around them a golden hue and caused the water to glimmer as if the ocean was a precious gem itself. The air around them started to warm up as the crew from below deck slowly began to rise and get ready for docking. 

Rubbing his eyes, Jisung nodded as the wind tossed his blue hair around his exhausted face, the sun illuminating his features. 

As he turned back to the ocean, a sigh of relief slipped past Minho’s chapped lips before he could stop it. Minho had never been to China or even dreamt of going there, but now he was closer than ever to the large country. 

“Now are you going to tell me why we are going to China?” From his peripheral vision, Minho caught how Jisung tensed immediately upon Minho’s inquiry. China and Korea had been allies for centuries and although their alliance still held strong, China didn’t hesitate to take over Russia even when they promised neutrality so what was keeping China from doing the same to Korea? If someone caught wind that the prince and heir to Korea was in China unexpectedly, it could tip the delicate balance of neutrality. 

“I need to go see a close friend of mine.” Jisung pulled his cloak closer to his body as he shifted from foot to foot. “He’s a prophet. He knows what we’re supposed to do.”

Disbelief flashed through Minho. Was this boy being serious?

“What we’re supposed to do,” Minho repeated. “You don’t know what we’re supposed to do next.”

Something akin to irritation flashed across Jisung’s face as he glared at Minho. “Listen, I can’t just plan to murder my own father within a few days. It’s not as straightforward as stabbing him when he’s asleep. He’s a strong man and we need to play it smart.” 

Minho spun around with a scowl on his face. Anger, caused by how nonchalant Jisung was, flared throughout his body. Minho had left everything he knew behind just for this stupid boy. God, Minho was an idiot. 

Surprise, however, quickly took over when he realized just how close Jisung was to him. Minho could see the faded acne scars along the Prince’s cheeks and the flecks of gold in his otherwise green eyes that widened as Jisung also realized the lack of space between them. But before either of them could react, bile rose to Minho’s throat from the sudden movement. 

“Minho-“ 

The acid burned his throat and caused his eyes to sting as Minho started to panic. Ginora would kill him if he got vomit on her precious ship. Before Jisung could even begin to speak another syllable, Minho threw his body against the rail of the ship to vomit into the ocean with a disgusting noise. 

Someone behind him, most likely a crew member, laughed but Minho paid him no mind.

Once Minho expelled all the contents of his stomach, he leaned his forehead against the cool rail. He focused on calming his ragged breathing by letting the sun warm his body. 

“Um.”

Minho tilted his head slightly so he could peer at Jisung. The boy was visibly uncomfortable- from his tense shoulders to the hand that was half raised- Jisung looked like he wanted a hole to swallow him whole. 

“I’ll just, uh. Leave? Yeah, I’ll do that.”

“Please leave.” 

“I’ll see you when we dock.” A dark red hue colored Jisung’s cheeks before the younger boy quickly turned around and left. Just seeing Jisung leave was enough for another wave of nausea to churn in Minho’s belly. 

“God, what a weird kid,” Minho muttered to no one in particular. He closed his eyes but couldn’t help it when his mind wandered back to Jisung and his face, Minho wanted to laugh. He really did wear his emotions on his sleeve. They weren’t going to survive. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Seeing the port was enough for Minho’s nausea to almost dissipate completely. Excitement hummed beneath his skin as the ship neared the docks. His foot tapped against the wooden deck as he resisted the urge to jump into the water and swim ashore himself. 

“You ready to go?” Jisung asked as he handed Minho a bread roll. 

Minho peered at the offered bread with skepticism. The younger boy sighed and shoved the bread into Minho’s hand once Jisung realized that Minho wasn’t going to take the bread. 

“I didn’t poison it.” Jisung looked like he wanted to jump into the ocean just to get away from Minho. “That would be counterproductive to everything I’ve been trying to do.” 

Minho didn’t say anything as he glanced at the bread and took a cautious bite. The bread roll was still warm and soft. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Minho murmured after he finished the roll in one bite. 

“Good. My friend lives in the middle of the city. I hope you don’t mind smoke.” 

The sudden urge to laugh bubbled in his throat, but he squashed that feeling as soon as he could. Minho unfortunately couldn’t squash the bitter smile on his face. 

From Mama’s hookah to the random men who enjoyed watching Minho choke on their cigarette smoke, Minho had learned how to breathe through polluted air years ago. 

The ship stopped in the dock with a sudden lurch. Minho was ready for the stop but Jisung wasn’t. Tripping over his own foot, Minho quickly snatched him by the arm. 

“Be more careful.” Minho hissed just as Ginora approached the two of them. 

Minho watched with minute interest as Jisung’s ears started to redden when he snatched his arm from Minho’s grasp. “I am careful,” Jisung hissed back. 

“Jisung, Minho.” Ginora greeted them, her face neutral and hair braided intricately around her headpiece. 

A smile found its way onto Jisung’s face easily and Minho couldn’t help but notice how his eyes crinkled into little crescents. 

“Ginora Noona! Good morning.” Jisung practically sang. 

“Good morning, Jisung.” Ginora’s voice softened briefly before hardening once again. “This is farewell. I have a feeling we won’t be seeing each other for a while.” 

Minho nodded as a pout tugged on Jisung’s lips, irritation slowly soured Minho’s mood as he realized just how emotional Jisung was. Annoying. 

“I’ll miss you, Noona.” Jisung said as he gave the woman a hug. 

A fond smile graced Ginora’s face as she returned the hug. Once they broke away, Ginora reached into her back pocket to reveal two black bandanas. 

“The smog has gotten worse since the last time you’ve been here, Jisung. These will help you.”

The thick black fabric was square in shape and had a simple outline of a tiger in the center of it. Minho watched as Jisung folded the fabric in half diagonally before wrapping it around his lower face. Coping the younger, Minho watched as the crew members around them started to do the same with various masks. Some had simple square fabrics like Jisung and Minho, but others had full face masks made out of tougher materials. 

The two of them left the boat and Minho couldn’t be happier. Solid land beneath his feet was enough for Minho to feel like himself again. He was in a much better mood and didn’t even mind when Jisung took a few seconds to wave goodbye to Ginora. 

“Goodbye, Jisungie.” She said as her crew crowded around her to say goodbye as well. 

Waving as he walked away, the two of them left the docks and entered the city. 

“Lead the way, _Jisungie.”_ Minho said as he bit his lip to hide the teasing smirk despite the fact that the bandana blocked his mouth from view anyway. 

Jisung rolled his eyes before sighing and gesturing ahead with a tilt of his head. “It’s this way. Don’t get lost.” 

The smog wasn’t too bad at the docks and Minho started to believe that people were exaggerating. He had heard multiple times about the mining industries China’s economy was built on and how it had destroyed the environment. Carbon was one of the main components that made up the magic crystals used in everyday life. They replaced what batteries used to do simply because the crystals provided more energy for a longer amount of time. Some crystals could be found naturally as well as be manufactured and as it turned out, large amounts of naturally formed crystals resided deep below Chinese soil. 

Man-made crystals could never be as powerful as natural crystals and the demand for power was what made China’s economy boom. 

As they slowly walked into the depths of the seaside city, Minho started to notice just how the demand for crystals and coal impacted the city. 

Many of the residents of the bustling city hunched over, a consequence of their hard work in the mines. Fingernails forever blackened from constant handling of coal and crystals, dust of the substances danced on everything from the food to the faces of the gruff men and women occupying the city. The little particles that gave them a thriving city was the same thing that was killing them, choking them from the inside. 

As they reached the heart of the city, Minho could feel their solemn faces following Jisung and Minho as they weaved their way through the thick crowds and thin streets. It was obvious that they were outsiders since they didn’t wear coal dust like the native occupants. 

Jisung suddenly stopped in front of a building and Minho almost laughed out loud. 

It was ironic, really. A little shop grew in the middle of a city powered by magic and thrived like a freak of nature; it was swallowed by green ivy, speckled with pink flowers with more potted plants littered outside. A wooden sign embossed with a leafless tree stuck out from the shop, the word ‘apothecary’ scrawled eloquently under the tree. A large storefront window resided next to the door; however, more plants prevented anyone from seeing inside. 

“This is my friend’s shop,” Jisung told Minho, stealing his attention from the store. 

Minho gazed into Jisung’s emerald eyes before he broke the contact to observe the building once again. An unreadable look danced in Jisung’s irises but Minho didn’t want to think about what it could mean. 

“Then what are we waiting for?” 

“Nothing,” Jisung mumbled before he grasped the brass knob and opened the door, a small bell chimed overhead to announce their arrival. 

Pulling down his mask, Minho noticed just how warm it was inside. The humidity made Minho itching to leave. He always had a preference for colder weather. 

If Minho thought the outside of the shop was too green, inside was definitely on another level. Various plants in weird pots occupied any available surface. Even the ceiling was used to hang plants and Minho had to bend every way to avoid touching them. The plants crammed into every inch of the shop blocked the light coming from the small windows and cast obscure shadows across the stone tiles. 

As they made their way to the counter in the back, the shop noticeably decreased to a colder temperature, much to Minho’s liking. 

Minho hid his surprise when a Korean boy approximately Minho’s age or a bit older stood behind the glass counter. His hair was powdery white to the point that it almost seemed translucent in the thinner areas and his icy blue eyes pierced into Minho as he became visible from behind the plants. His features contrasted to his warm skin but he was still paler than both Minho and Jisung. 

The boy stopped what he was doing to give Jisung a warm smile. “Jisungie!” 

“Channie Hyung!” Jisung returned the smile as he bounced to the front counter. 

This person- Channie as Jisung said- only grinned widely as he opened his arms and didn’t seem to care that Jisung climbed over the counter to hug the older male. 

“Who’s this?” Channie’s voice was honey-smooth and warmth-inducing, which was dangerous in Minho’s eyes. 

“I’m Lee Minho.” Minho nodded a greeting as he received a similar nod in return. 

“Bang Chan,” he said with a cautious smile and a knowing glint in his eye. 

This person was definitely dangerous but Minho couldn’t quite pinpoint why. 

“So Jisung,” Chan began as he picked up a metal watering can and began to water a spiky plant in a brown rubber boot. “Why don’t you humor me and tell me why you’re here?” 

Jisung sighed and sat on the counter, his back and profile of his face exposed to Minho. He leaned his elbows on his knees to support his head as he watched Chan water his plants. 

The window to the right of Minho allowed the setting sun to filter light through the plants and highlight the dust in the air. Jisung pouted as he began to play with the plant nearest to him, eyes shimmering green as the rest of his face hid in the shadows. 

“You know why I’m here,” Jisung said as Chan slid the plant out of his reach. 

“You’re right,” Chan laughed when Jisung’s expression soured. “But I want to hear it from you.” 

Minho glanced warily between the two of them and couldn’t help but shuffle from side to side. It was obvious that the two were close and Minho felt like an intruder. 

“I need you to tell me the prophecy.” Jisung’s face hardened as he got serious. Chan continued to water his plants, shifting to water yellow flowers in a glass vase, playful glint no longer in his eyes. 

“Don’t you already know it, Jisungie?” Chan set his watering can on the counter as he gave Jisung his full attention. 

Minho’s head snapped to look at the Prince who played with his fingers and chewed on his lower lip. “You know the prophecy already? Why did we bother coming here?” Anger hung onto his words. 

Jisung turned around from where he sat on the counter to glare at Minho, anger coloring his ears red. “Listen, no one actually knows it besides my dad and Chan Hyung, okay?” He spoke slowly as if he was speaking to a mere child. “You and I only know that a Descendant of Eunbyeol -or the Destined One or the Descendant of the Wise, whatever- has the abilities to overtake him because he let that part be known to the public. He had to reveal that part in order to justify his fucked up actions.” 

Rolling his eyes, Minho crossed his arms and stared pointedly at Chan, refusing to make eye contact with Jisung even if it was a childish move. Minho knew that if he looked at the younger boy any longer, he’d be reminded of memories he didn’t want to remember. Chan only sighed before he took a sip of water from the watering can. 

“Honestly, I don’t remember what the exact prophecy is and it takes a lot of energy to recall it, but I can probably tell you two a summarized version?” Chan gave them a weak smile. “It’ll probably be enough to get you two going.”

Jisung nodded, his hair bouncing as a smile stretched across his lips. “That’ll be perfect!”

The last drop of sunlight disappeared and the entire store was cast in shadow. Due to the heavy smog, the moonlight was unable to illuminate the shop so the three of them basked in the silent darkness. 

A moment of thick silence passed by before a sudden green glow erupted from where Chan stood. Spinning to look at the sudden light, Minho’s mind reeled when he saw Chan standing still, eyes completely green and glowing eerily. 

“Uh, are you okay?” Minho tentatively asked as he looked from Chan to Jisung. Jisung didn’t look surprised but fear still made his pupils shake. 

Chan’s mouth opened slowly as grey, ashy smoke began to bellow out slowly. His mouth moved but it seemed as if the words he spoke were echoing in Minho’s mind. 

“ _I see a group, it can be as big as ten but as small as two. The Descendant will face many challenges, both mentally and physically, before they battle the King but both sides can lose something extremely important to them if they’re greedy.”_

Just as soon as it came, the green light in Chan’s eyes disappeared. The smoke dissipated into nothingness as Chan slumped forward and Jisung barely managed to catch him right before he smacked into the counter. 

“Hyung?” Jisung slid off the counter to hold Chan carefully. “Are you alright?” 

Chan shook his head quickly before he shrugged Jisung off and propped himself against the counter. “I’ll be alright,” he exhaled. 

Jisung scrunched his eyebrows and opened his mouth- most likely to argue- but before he could, Chan straightened and spoke first. 

“Well, that’s the best I can predict.”

“That’s it?” Minho held back his scoff. “That barely helps.”

Jisung shot him an irritated glare but Chan only laughed.

“The future is very rarely concrete. Honestly, this was better than what I usually get. Maybe something will come to me in my dreams.”

“No worries, Hyung,” Jisung said, blatantly ignoring Minho. “That helps a lot.”

“Why should I help you if it seems like nothing good will come from this?” Minho glared at Jisung and the younger had the audacity to look surprised. “It seems like it's more trouble than what it’s worth.”

“Who says that you’re the prophetic hero?” Chan's smile was long gone.

Minho sputtered. “If it’s not me then why the hell am I here?”

“You _could_ be since you are a Descendant, but if there’s someone else, it could be them.” Jisung shrugged, his mouth in a hard line. 

“And what if it’s not me?”

“Then we’ll find who it is and help them.” Jisung peered at him nonchalantly. 

Minho groaned into his hands. If he was getting paid for this, he’d have no complaints, but the worst thing was that he was doing this for _free_.

Chan’s eyes crinkled as he gave them a tired smile. “It’s getting late, why don’t you both stay here for tonight?” 

Minho and Jisung made eye contact briefly before Jisung turned to the older and gave him a tentative nod. They still had no idea what to do and after hearing everything Chan had said, Minho was more hesitant to do this. He had to find a plan to escape and soon. He’s not going to risk losing something important for _Jisung_ of all people. 

“Alright, but I’m cooking. You on the other hand,” Jisung pointed to Chan who laughed at his antics, “will be resting.” 

With his eyes still crinkled, Chan reached to ruffle Jisung’s hair before pushing off the counter to stand on his own. “Nice try, Jisung,” Chan said as he motioned for them to follow him. “But you can’t cook for shit.”

Minho briefly saw Jisung pout before the boy turned to follow Chan. “I can cook,” Minho offered. 

Simultaneously, both boys turned around with various levels of surprise written on their faces. Their watchful gazes had Minho squirming inside but he kept his face neutral. 

“Don’t look at me like that,” Minho retorted defensively as Chan broke into a smile and Jisung only looked at him with more suspicion. “I’ve been cooking for years.”

“I don’t think-“

“What a fantastic idea!” Chan exclaimed before Jisung could finish his sentence, ignoring the glare from the younger. 

Chan led them through a door behind the counter which opened to a staircase. The air around them was suffocating as waves of disapproval radiated off of Jisung. A single wall sconce was the only light source before the staircase turned right and into a small living room and kitchen area, the chilly air nipped at Minho’s nose.

“Help yourself to the kitchen.” 

A single nod was all Minho did to show that he heard the older male. After leaving his items near a worn down sofa, Minho headed to the kitchen and began rummaging through the cabinets. 

There wasn’t a lot in terms of vegetables and fruits; however, the fridge was loaded with various cuts of meat. Reaching in to grab random cuts, Minho was at a loss on how to prepare some of the meat. Although Minho had been cooking for a good portion of his life, he was definitely not an expert. 

Minho lost himself while he cooked. Although he never particularly loved cooking, he didn’t hate it either. It was therapeutic in the way it was as if he was back at home cooking for the others. Nostalgia made his eyes water as the memories resurfaced, but he didn’t dare cry. He hastily blinked his tears away but his moment to himself didn’t last long before faint voices from the living room broke his train of thought. 

“How can you trust him?” Jisung whispered to the older male. 

“Well, do you trust me?” Chan responded as Minho opened the lid to check the soup. 

Reaching for a wooden spoon, Minho began to stir the dark liquid as it began to bubble. “Of course I trust you, Hyung.” The sound of plates clattering startled Minho who was focused on their quiet conversation. 

“Then you can trust him.” The aroma of the beef soup, or whatever the meat in Chan’s fridge was, was beginning to fill the kitchen and make Minho’s stomach growl. 

Lost in his thoughts, Minho turned the stove off when everything was cooked to his liking and didn’t realize he had been spacing out until he turned around. Minho watched how Jisung seemed to be completely at ease with Chan, laughing easily at some joke Chan made, which made Minho’s heart ache due to how the sight reminded Minho of his friends back home. 

After a few seconds, Jisung looked up and caught Minho watching them. 

“Uh, it’s done,” Minho said sheepishly. 

Jisung turned away quickly as Chan gave him a smile and Minho’s face warmed. 

Taking a second to collect himself, Minho grabbed the pot and placed it on the metal trivet on the low coffee table, sitting on the cushion opposite of Chan and Jisung. 

“Wasn’t the pot hot?” Jisung asked tentatively. 

Minho shrugged and hid his hands under the table. “I’m fine.” The pot actually was very hot but Minho didn’t want to ask where the oven mitts were. 

“Let’s dig in,” Chan said after no one made a move to eat and an uncomfortable silence hung heavy over them. “It smells delicious.” 

Dinner was uncomfortable, to say the least. Well, for Minho. The soup Minho was delicious if he could say so himself and the rice Chan had wasn’t the best but it certainly wasn’t the worst. The meal itself was fine; it was the company that made Minho lose his appetite. 

Chan ate with fervor and seemed to actually enjoy what Minho had cooked but Jisung had been shoveling food into his mouth almost robotically. 

“You know, I have a lot of unprepared meat but I can’t actually cook. This is the tastiest thing I’ve eaten since I moved away from home,” Chan said before he shoved a spoonful of rice into his mouth. 

Minho only gave him an awkward closed mouth smile before eating his portion. Jisung didn’t say anything except for when he had asked Minho if he wanted more rice since he was the closest to the rice cooker. 

The moment Chan finished his bowl and the pot was empty, Jisung jumped up to clean, muttering something about doing the dishes by himself before he disappeared into the kitchen. 

Minho fiddled with his thumbs and Chan got up with a groan. 

“Make yourself at home, I’m going to go prepare where you’ll be sleeping.”

“Oh, no, you don’t have to.” Guilt sat on Minho’s chest and restricted his breathing. He struggled to remain normal as Chan waved him off. 

“Don’t be like that,” Chan’s smile continued to be warm and inviting, “you’re my guest, this is the least I should do.” 

Swallowing hard, Minho found himself nodding despite the guilt. “If you insist,” he mumbled. 

Chan clapped Minho’s shoulder as he walked past, humming a soft song under his breath. “Of course I do.” 

Minho sat at the coffee table for what felt like hours until he glanced up from the wooden surface to observe his surroundings. Minho had been so focused on cooking and getting out of Chan’s way, he didn’t get the chance to look around. 

He stood up on his slightly asleep legs to examine the photos Chan had on his walls above the couch. For some reason, the photos drew him in even though he never met Chan before in his entire life. 

What appeared to be a young Chan standing next to two tall figures was the first photo Minho observed. A wide smile stretched across Chan’s face as he held a messy and indistinguishable painting, the figures next to him smiling as well, white teeth glittering in the sun. 

“So, how’s Changbin?” Minho could hear Chan ask Jisung from in the kitchen. 

The pot clanged against the stainless steel sink as Jisung continued to wash the dishes. “Changbinnie Hyung’s fine. Grumpy as per usual.”

Chan laughed and Minho moved on to the next photo, which was in the center of all the other photos and easily the largest. 

“Is he getting enough sleep? He always stays up too late and forgets to take care of himself.” 

Jisung scoffed. “You and I both know that you only really care about Changbin Hyung. You don’t need to pretend to care about me.” 

A scandalized gasp followed a painful wack to someone’s back and a pain-filled yelp was all Minho heard as he looked at the family portrait. It was a more recent photo, most likely a family trip if the colorful Hawaiian shirt Chan wore was anything to go by. 

“Holy fuck, Hyung!” Jisung whined, “watch your strength. Geez, I was only joking.” 

“And so was I.” The cheekiness was evident in Chan’s voice. 

Something about Chan’s family portrait made the guilt in Minho’s stomach churn more, but he wasn’t sure why. The family of three stood on a beach, Chan’s father was unusually pale and had the same translucent white hair as his son. Chan’s mother was softer than her husband and son in the way that she was curvy and had fuller cheeks. Her plump lips curled into a smile that revealed unusually pointy teeth as her dark hair framed her tanned face. Chan was almost a perfect mixture of both but had more characteristics of his father than his mother. 

The family was happy, that much was obviously clear. Was it the fact that they were unadulteratedly happy the reason why Minho was so upset? 

An irritated sigh slipped past Minho’s lips as he brushed a hand through his messy hair. He was truly pathetic, getting upset over someone else’s happiness. With a slight shake of his head, he hoped to clear his mind and to get a grip on reality. 

“-ho. Minho?” 

Minho whirled around to see Chan and Jisung looking at him with various degrees of confusion and concern. Shaking his head once more, Minho tried to ease his frantic heart. 

“Yeah?” 

“Are you- actually, I was just going to tell you that you can use the bathroom first,” Chan said with a concerned smile. 

The guilt remained heavy in his chest and Minho glanced to see Jisung watching him expectantly. Giving them both a tentative nod, Minho picked up his items and waited for Chan to show him the way. 

As he neared the bathroom, relief began to fill his body. The bathroom was almost like a sanctuary of sorts— giving Minho time to recollect his disjointed thoughts and find his purpose again. 

“Feel free to use whatever,” Chan said as he gestured to the bathroom from outside. 

Minho quickly nodded, anxious to get inside but a cool hand on his shoulder prevented him from entering. 

Panic quickly flooded his veins as Minho turned to look at Chan, an unreadable expression on the older male’s face. 

_Shit. He knows._

“Are you alright?” 

_Huh?_

Chan said those three words with such sincerity and conviction, it made Minho’s head spin. 

_He doesn’t know?_

A relieved smile stretched across Minho’s tired face as he shook Chan’s hand off his shoulder. 

“Yeah, I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.” 

Chan nodded as Minho brushed past to enter the bathroom. “Alright, even though we just met, don’t hesitate to ask for anything.” 

For the first time in a while, Minho laughed. Sure, it was at the irony of the situation, but he laughed nonetheless. 

“Sure,” Minho said as he closed the bathroom door, a relieved sigh brushing past his lips. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho did not get a single wink of sleep. 

Lying motionless all night under Chan’s family portrait made Minho’s skin crawl and uncomfortable sweat to collect under his arms. He counted every crack on the ceiling and watched the spider in the corner spin her web, yet nothing managed to pull Minho under. 

It was relieving for Minho when the early rays of the sun breached the window of Chan’s small living room. Springing to his feet, Minho took his time in the bathroom, knowing full well that he may not have access to a clean bathroom in the near future. 

Minho’s footsteps were feather-light as he crossed the aged wood floor to reach the kitchen. Never one for breakfast, Minho settled for tea that tasted more like mildew than jasmine despite what the packaging said.

“Good morning,” a groggy voice pulled Minho’s attention away from the steaming mug.

“Morning,” Minho responded for the sake of being polite. Chan brushed past Minho, who leaned against the sink, to reach for a mug. Chan settled for an egg-white mug that was chipped in a few places instead of the many, perfectly fine mugs in the cabinet. 

Chan’s hair was neat, saved for a small flick of hair that teeter-tottered on the crown of his head as he gulped down coffee brewed the day before. “How’d you sleep last night?” Chan’s mellow voice pulled Minho’s attention from his head to his eyes.

Most people would only ask for the sake of small talk, but sincerity swam in Chan’s bright eyes. Suddenly finding it hard to look at the older male, Minho stared at his socks, cradling his mug close to his chest. 

“It was fine,” Minho lied.

Chan hummed as he finished his coffee. “I’m glad.” 

What seemed like an eternity passed by as Chan fluttered around the kitchen doing various chores, sending a cool breeze to tickle Minho’s nose every time he walked by. Minho wasn’t one to ask others if they needed help, but Minho had also never been in debt to someone else like Chan. Yet, as Minho’s mismatched eyes trailed Chan’s broad back, he found that a lump had formed in the base of his throat, rendering his voice useless. 

“So um,” Minho eloquently stated after he managed to swallow the invisible lump. 

“Yes?” Chan turned to look at him as he watered a large calatheas plant in the corner. 

“What’s up with all the plants?” _Smooth. Real smooth._

Luckily for Minho, Cham laughed off the awkwardness and set his watering can aside. Minho’s question was innocent enough; houseplants littered Chan’s house like dust, and not to mention how the shop below was a forest in itself. Peeing was awkward enough when you made accidental eye contact with a tiny cactus in a bright orange pot. 

“I grew up with a lot of plants around so I feel more at home when I’m surrounded by green.” Chan laughed under his breath as if he remembered an inside joke. “I’m not Chinese, in case you didn’t notice.” His eyes twinkled as he faced Minho properly.

“You’re Korean, right?” 

He nodded, seemingly not worried about telling a stranger all of this. “I’m full Korean. My mother and father are both currently in Australia right now. Family business and all that.” 

Minho ah-ed, not knowing what to say. _Fuck._

“How about you?” Chan asked, not fazed by the silence. “Where are you from?” 

Unease crawled across his skin, making his heart ram against his chest, but Minho refused to let any nerves show. Minho hated talking about himself. The more people knew, the more they had against him. “I’m Korean too.” He found himself saying.

“And your family? Wher-”

“Anyway,” Minho spoke, a little too loudly and too quickly for it to be natural. If Chan was surprised by his outburst, he didn’t show it. “Have any ideas where Jisung and I should head to next?” He laughed awkwardly. 

Chan made a thoughtful noise as he bit down on his lower lip. “North-east.” He said after a long pause. 

Not expecting an actual direction, Minho scoffed. “And you just knew that? How’d you know?” 

Chan grinned, eyes disappearing into crescents. “I just do. I have a feeling.”

Minho’s face scrunched in disbelief before he could school his features. Chan laughed as he always did. “

You can’t just know.” 

“You gotta trust me. Plus, this is the best thing you have. Admit it, you had absolutely no idea before you asked me.” Chan leaned against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest as a satisfied smirk inched onto his face the longer Minho remained silent. 

“Ugh, fine,” Minho grumbled, mirroring Chan’s movements by crossing his own arms over his chest. “But that’s it? Just north-east? That’s pretty vague.” 

Chan shrugged and moved his hands to his pockets as he pushed off the counter. “Fate will lead you to the right place.” Grabbing the watering can once again, Chan started to make his way to the stairs.

“That’s ridiculous.” Minho couldn’t believe his ears. He was supposed to place his life into the hands of fate? This really was a suicide mission. “I can’t just walk around aimlessly, waiting for something to happen. That’s going to take forever.”

Something akin to irritation flashed across Chan’s face, but the older male managed to clear his face to a neutral expression. He stopped in front of the family portrait, blocking the smiling figures from Minho’s view. 

“It’ll work,” Chan said with so much conviction and assuredness that Minho almost found himself believing the older male. 

“You can’t be serious.” Minho scoffed. 

They stared at each other and Minho looked for some sort of lie or secret hidden in Chan’s crystal eyes, but he was met with bitter defeat when Chan looked away with a sigh.

“Here, might as well make yourself useful,” Chan muttered as he shoved the watering can in Minho’s direction. 

Caught by surprise, Minho took the heavy can and followed Chan down the stairs and into the shop. Dust particles, illuminated by the rising sun, danced across the warm air when the two of them moved across the crowded room. 

“Water them,” Chan gestured vaguely to the rest of the room and Minho balked. There were easily hundreds of plants. “It’s not like you have anything better to do. Jisung isn’t a morning person.” 

Minho peered into the brass watering can to see water splashing against the side. A small translucent blue crystal rested against the bottom of the can, hidden in the shadows of the container. Biting the inside of his cheek and swallowing a protest, Minho began to begrudgingly water the plants, starting with a plant to his left. He tried to read the name to see if he knew any medicinal properties the plant may have, but he was met with an absurdly long name written on a small wooden sign. _Hyunjin would know_. 

The two of them worked quietly for a good chunk of time. Minho was watering a small tree-like plant as the ivy hanging from the ceiling tickled the back of his exposed neck. Squinting his eyes, Minho tried to read the sign (Gingko? Bingko? Chan needed to work on his handwriting) before Chan’s calm voice broke the comfortable silence. 

“It comes with being a prophet. The whole ‘I have a feeling’ thing.” 

Minho glanced up from the sign to see Chan leaning against a large plant in an octagonal pot that Minho watered a few minutes ago, watching him carefully. A meeking fig, Minho remembered after a brief second. At least that’s what he thinks that’s what the sign said. 

“O-okay,” Minho mumbled before eyeing the next plant to water. Turmeric.

Chan sighed through his nose before he shook his head and turned back to clean the store counter. 

Minho glanced at the turmeric that he may have accidentally drowned, the dirt was starting to float due to how much water was in the pot. Thanks to the crystal in the watering can; however, Minho didn’t need to refill the can. The crystal seemed to replenish the water. 

“Sorry,” he mumbled, not sure if it was for the plant or for Chan. The older male’s reaction to Minho’s lackluster response was out of the ordinary, even if Minho had known him for less than 24 hours. Something heavy weighed down on his chest, Minho just wasn’t the best at conversations unless he needed something from the other. He was never one for pointless talks. 

Luckily, or unluckily, for Minho, he didn’t need to come up with a response since Jisung chose that same moment to swing that door open and yell “morning bitch” to Chan, a smile on his clean face as his cloak bellowed behind him. 

Minho yelped as the door crashed against the wall and startled Minho, causing him to accidentally drown another plant as water sloshed out from the top of the can and onto the innocent plant, the cold tiles, and Minho’s favorite steel-toed boots. 

They stared at each other for a brief second, but it was long enough for Minho to notice even the smallest of details on the younger’s face. Jisung looked refreshed and well-rested. _That makes one of us._ The morning rays danced across his warm skin, giving him a healthy glow and making the gold flecks in his eyes shine just a little bit brighter. Shadows cast by the various plants decorated his skin in moving, obscure tattoos. 

“Oh, um, morning to you too, Minho,” Jisung grumbled as red began to dust his cheeks. 

Minho looked away quickly and moved onto the next plant, blatantly ignoring the puddle around him and the warmth blossoming across his cheeks. “Morning,” he mumbled. 

Chan sighed but amusement clung to his words. “Jisungie, how many times do I have to tell you not to do that? What if I had a customer right now?” 

Jisung huffed before Minho heard his response. “Channie Hyung, don’t flatter yourself. You never have customers.” 

A pot of purple echinaceas caught Minho’s attention as he heard Chan smack Jisung’s arm. The slap bounced off the walls but Minho paid them no mind. He crouched down to look at the potted plant, holding the delicate petals between his pointer finger and thumb. 

“Take that back! My business is always blooming, just like my plants.” 

Jisung groaned. “Yeah, yeah, whatever. Besides, Hyung, you know it’s a tradition that I do that every time. Tra-di-tion.” Sassiness present in every syllable. 

Chan only sighed at Jisung’s response before Minho heard shuffling. Glancing up, Minho let the flower slip from his gentle grasp and rose with the pop of his knees. 

“You kids should get going,” Chan said in a way of greeting, tossing Minho the stuff that he had left upstairs. 

Minho fought the urge to search through his belongings to see if anything was missing, but that would be rude so he only shrugged on his katanas and adjusted the satchel that sat over his tactical vest. 

“Where are we going?” Jisung asked, eyes wide with child-like curiosity.

“North-east.” Minho said as Chan said, “somewhere far.”

Surprised by Chan’s answer, both Minho and Jisung glanced at the older boy who only stared into space with a blank look on his face. A second past before Chan started to slowly nod. “Yeah, somewhere really far. Like a few cities over. I think you’re going to find a group-- they’re important.” 

Exchanging a glance with Jisung, Minho watched as Jisung’s adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. 

“Alright,” Jisung exhaled. “Let’s get going then.”


	3. Peregrinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peregrinate: a verb meaning to travel or wander from place to place
> 
> Minho and Jisung travel to find the people who are going to assassinate the king and fulfill the abstruse prophecy. They gain and lose friendships along the way. Jisung meets someone unexpected.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope everyone is doing well :>  
> /smooches/

“My ass hurts.” Jisung groaned, breaking the thick silence between them. 

“You don’t have one,” Minho grumbled back as he blinked out of his half-asleep state. 

Jisung shot him a pointed glare from where he sat across from Minho, knees drawn to his chest, leaning against the side of the wagon. Minho had managed to _convince_ the owner to let them ride in the back for as far north-east he was going. 

Minho extended one of his legs to stretch out his stiff muscles. If he tilted his foot, his boot would brush against Jisung’s knee.

“And how would you know?” Jisung shot back, a smug grin on his lips. 

Masking his embarrassment with a scoff, Minho glanced out the back of the wagon and past the barrels to watch the trees disappear into little obscure triangles. “You’re as thin as a twig. You can’t have an ass if you’re a twig.”

Minho could practically feel Jisung’s glare burning holes in Minho’s side profile, but he refused to give in to the younger boy. A single syllable was all Jisung managed to say before the wagon came to a jerking stop, preventing Jisung from completing what Minho most likely could assume was a bitter remark.

“This is as far I can take you,” the owner of the wagon mumbled in broken Korean and gave Minho a tentative side glance. 

“Thanks!” Jisung said with a blinding smile on his face and once again, the owner gave Minho another side glance, but this time it seemed to say ‘how the hell did sir rainbow-and-sunshine end up with emo-supreme over there?’

Hopping out of the wagon, Minho didn’t wait for Jisung to climb out before he started to trek the rest of the dirt pathway. Hurried footsteps chased after Minho before slowing down once Jisung caught up. 

“What’d you say to the man to make him so nervous?” Jisung asked after a beat of silence. 

Minho glanced over his shoulder to give Jisung a dry grin. “You don’t wanna know.”

Jisung only grumbled something incomprehensible under his breath, but his silence soon after was enough to tell Minho that Jisung knew better than to pry. 

As they walked, it dawned on Minho that neither of them had any idea where the nearest city was. They had foolishly forgotten to bring any sort of map with them even though they were traversing through a foreign country. Minho sighed as he internally chastised himself. 

The occasional lazy breeze disturbed the air around them, but that wasn’t enough to cool either of them. A quick glance over his shoulder told Minho that Jisung was burning under the afternoon sun just as much as he was. After walking for about an hour, Jisung had long since shredded his cloak, which sat tucked across his satchel. They both had a thin layer of sweat lining their foreheads. 

“Hey,” Jisung began with a tired puff of air. “How close do you think the nearest town is?” 

Minho only grunted an uncertain noise in response. 

“It has to be close, I mean, how big is China? It can’t be that big.”

“China’s pretty big- wait.” 

Minho whirled around, squinting behind them to see if he heard correctly. 

“What?” Jisung asked, eyes wide in bewilderment. “What is it--”

Clamping a hand over Jisung’s mouth, Minho ignored the oil on the younger’s skin and the warm exhale that tickled the hair on his arms. 

“I heard something.” A relieved grin made its way across Minho’s lips when the figure of an old cart pulled by an ox came into view behind them.   
  


“No way. How on earth-” Jisung began, turning around but stopping mid-sentence when he saw what Minho had seen. “The Lord has answered our prayers.”

Minho ignored Jisung and resorted to pulling him off the worn dirt path to let the cart drive up next to them. It took a few minutes, but the man on the ox eventually noticed them.

The cart rolled to a stop with a groan, but Minho wasn’t complaining. Beats walking for hours. 

“Hey,” the man began, surprising both Minho and Jisung with the Korean he spoke. He laughed at their expression before hopping off the ox to talk to them properly. “Whatcha kids doing all the way out here? The next town is hours away.” He laughed easily. 

Jisung laughed just as carefree as the man, but Minho only smiled at him, one that he knew made him look good. 

The man’s eyes flicked to Minho, quickly scanning him up and down as Jisung began to speak. 

“Wow, you speak Korean too?” The relief was obvious in Jisung’s voice. 

“Yeah, I am Korean after all.” The man smiled quickly at Jisung before looking at Minho again. “And I saw two fellow Koreans who seemed like they needed help so I stopped to see if you two needed anything.” 

The man seemed nice enough-- he was a little shorter than Minho but well built. A tan from years of being outside made his skin glow, his face shadowed by a large straw hat. Minho could make out the faint tellings of a beard and smile lines around his eyes, exposing his true age. His ox huffed beside the man when he began to pat his animal absentmindedly. 

“Yes!” Jisung sighed in relief. “A ride to the next town would be great.” 

As Jisung seemed to become more relaxed at the possible prospect of a ride to the next town, Minho’s own suspicion grew. Even if they got a ride, there had to be a catch. 

“Oh, that’s it?” The man laughed wholeheartedly before his smile slowly disappeared. “But unfortunately I can’t offer you one for free.” 

_Ah, there it is._

“Oh, no, I understand.” Jisung began, a thoughtful look on his face. “How much do you want?” 

“No,” Minho interrupted, “what do you want?” Minho recognized the hungry look in the man’s eyes. The look was all too familiar with Minho. 

The man laughed awkwardly before he looked at Minho, tilting his head up to look Minho in the eyes. The new angle allowed Minho to see his eyes clearly, dark brown irises with thin, oval pupils. 

“You.” The man said, voice wavering at the end. 

Minho groaned inside. It had been awhile since he had to do any sexual favors and Minho only had to threaten the last man to get what he wanted. Minho didn’t get enough sleep to do shit like this. 

_Fuck._

“What?” Jisung gasped, drawing Minho’s attention from the man. “You can’t just have him. He’s not an object. Plus, what would you even do with him? He’s practically useless.” 

Minho ignored the insult Jisung tagged at the end in favor of shushing him. “That’s not what he meant,” he said as he stared back at the man. They both continued to watch each other-- a careful expression on Minho’s face and a hopeful one on the man’s. 

“Then what does he mean?” 

Minho heard Jisung but he pushed the younger boy out of the way to address the man instead. “What do you want?” Minho asked in a low voice, face close to the man. Minho saw the exact moment the man’s breath hitched and his pupils dilated in excitement. 

“Just a simple blow will work.” He breathed out as Minho pushed him against the cart. 

Minho resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead moved his hands slowly down the man’s sides. 

“Blow?” Minho heard Jisung's question. “Blow what? Bubbles?” 

For a ride, Minho honestly would’ve fucked the man on the dirt pathway if he asked Minho to. The pathetic truth, however, was that it wasn’t the worst thing Minho had done in his life. Minho had done much worse for far less, so a simple blow job was fine. It was just _annoying_. 

Minho made quick work of the belt and reached past the man’s jeans to pull his half-hard dick out of his pants. Giving it a few pumps until it was hard, Minho dropped to his knees as Jisung let out a startled gasp. Taking the man with his mouth, Minho easily took in the entirety of the man’s dick with relative ease, only gagging slightly when the tip hit the back of his throat. 

The man sighed as Minho’s nose brushed against his pubic hair. Jisung gagged more than Minho. 

Starting slowly, Minho pulled back as he flattened and dragged his tongue along the bottom of the shaft, earning him a low moan from the man before him. Once he reached the top, Minho circled his tongue around the tip before hollowing his cheeks and bobbing up and down quickly. The man let out a surprised gasp, gripping Minho’s hair with a heavy hand, and Minho took it as his cue to go faster. 

Minho was very much aware of Jisung’s gaze on his face, but he refused to acknowledge the boy. He switched to a blank mindset and focused solely on making the man cum and nothing else. That meant he had to ignore Jisung.

The sun’s warm rays combined with the effort required caused sweat to dot Minho’s forehead and the back of his neck. Minho’s knees ached from kneeling on the hard dirt ground and Minho wanted nothing more but to finish the job quickly. 

Not before long, the man came in Minho’s mouth with a startled cry and a harsh pull of his hair. 

After he pulled away, Minho moved to the trees to spit out the cum and tried to hide how his face scrunched up at the bitter taste it left in his mouth. When Minho turned back around, the man had already stuffed his dick back into his pants.

“Get in,” he said before turning around to climb onto his ox, red beginning to color the top of his cheeks. 

Minho nodded before pulling himself into the cart; but before he could settle in the cart properly, he became very aware of the eyes on his face. 

“Are you coming or not?” Minho grumbled, offering his hand to Jisung who only stared back with a mixture of horror and disgust. 

“Oh!” Jisung's face began to flush a vibrant red. He took Minho’s hand and allowed himself to be pulled into the cart. As they settled in, Jisung on one side and Minho on the other, the cart began to move at a steady pace. 

The ride, to say the very least, was not comfortable. Not in the slightest. 

With the combination of an uneven dirt road and a rickety cart, they jostled around in the small cart and their knees occasionally knocked against each other. With a tired sigh, Minho slipped his eyes shut and tilted his head back to stretch out his neck, but as he did so, Jisung suddenly yelped. 

“What?” Minho’s head snapped forward to glare at the younger. Jisung rubbed his eyes as a pout rested on his lips. 

“Your stupid earring reflected the sunlight into my eyes.” 

Minho rolled his eyes. “It’s not stupid.” 

“Well, it caused me pain, so it’s stupid in my book.” 

“Get a better book.” 

“Shut up,” Jisung groaned before he slumped lower so that the reflected sunlight hit his forehead instead of his eyes. “What’s with the earring anyway? You never take it off and I’ve never seen anything like it.” 

“Why do you want to know?” Minho narrowed his eyes at the younger. “Are you planning to steal it or something?” 

Jisung groaned. “Why would I want your crusty and stupid earring?” 

“Once again,” Minho’s voice dropped an octave. “It’s not stupid. And it’s not crusty.” 

“Fine, but since you’re so defensive it must mean something.” 

Minho sighed and shifted his gaze to stare at the fleeting scenery. “It belonged to my parents.” Minho spilled after a second. Why was he telling the prince this despite barely knowing him? Minho had no idea but the words were tumbling out of his mouth before he could stop himself. “Before they died.” _By the hands of your father._

“Oh.” Jisung didn’t say anything for a moment and Minho thought the younger was going to drop it, but Minho was proven wrong. “They wore the same one? Isn’t that kinda gross? Sharing the same earring with someone else.” 

“No, dumbass.” Minho turned to glare at the younger but no real heat was in his voice. “They each had a matching earring that they wore but I never found the other one.”

“What does it mean?” 

“Why are you asking so many questions? Go back to ignoring me, that was a lot better and less headache-inducing.” 

“Fuck you.” Jisung flashed Minho his middle finger and Minho returned the gesture. “I’m just bored and curious, okay?” 

With a groan, Minho crossed his arms over his chest and ignored the smug grin on Jisung’s face when the prince was the last to have their middle finger up. “It basically symbolized their love for each other and that they’ll always be there to provide protection. It was more romantic when they told me that story years ago.”

Jisung made a noise of understanding.

“They were eventually going to give me both earrings so I can give one to my future spouse, but they obviously died before they could.” Minho never overshared, but for some reason, he couldn’t help but spill to Jisung. Even if they weren’t even friends, Minho felt as if Jisung wouldn’t judge him.

“That’s a shame.”

Minho shrugged.

“Your parent’s death and the fact that there’s a possibility that someone out in the world might genuinely like you for who you are as a person.” A shit-eating grin stretched across Jisung’s face.

“Shut the fuck up.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re here.” Minho nudged Jisung’s side with his foot to wake the younger. Jisung had slept for most of the ride, which was perfectly fine with Minho. It saved him the awkward silence that seemed to cling to them like dust. 

The sun had just begun to disappear past the horizon as Minho stood up in the cart and stretched his tired muscles with an annoyed huff.

“Hmhmmdksh.” 

“ _Jisung_.”

“Wha- I’m awake!” Jisung startled awake, eyes wide and sleep encrusted. 

“Yeah, sure.” Minho grimaced. 

An embarrassed flush began to color Jisung’s cheeks, but the younger boy didn’t say anything as he climbed out of the cart. Jisung thanked the man before the man drove away and left behind nothing but a trail of dust. 

Jisung twirled around slowly and his eyes darted around as he tried to take in his surroundings quickly and all at once. The town was small. Buildings were made of wood and various stalls littered the main cobble road. Now that the sun was practically gone, few people walked by as they loitered in front of the inn and Minho waited for Jisung, the younger boy seemingly lost in his own world. 

Minho didn’t really mind, he was tired from the long trek and he didn’t have it within himself to yell at the boy. Jisung had never really been outside of the castle, saved for royal family trips, but that didn’t count when he was in the fanciest of vehicles to carry him to the best locations. Jisung was a stranger to this environment, whereas Minho was all too familiar with it. 

“Are you done?” Minho broke the comfortable silence, no bite to his words.

Jisung jumped as if he had forgotten that Minho even existed. 

“Ye-yeah.” 

The inside of the inn was bright and warm. Booths lined the walls as round tables crowded the floor. People occupied most of the space, drinking to their heart’s content. The smell of beer clung to every surface of the establishment, which created a heavy but comfortable weight to the air. Minho led the way to the back of the inn where the receptionist would be. Words were too much for Minho, so he resorted to shoving people if they got in his way. 

He reached the front desk with a tired huff and a quick glance at Jisung. The younger boy was a little worse for wear, but otherwise intact and alright, so Minho paid him no mind. 

“Hi!” A tired woman greeted them. “What can I do for you two?” Her honey brown hair brushed against the top of her shoulders as she addressed the two of them.

“One room, two beds please,” Minho said in broken Chinese. The lady nodded before flipping through a book. 

“Here you go,” her smooth voice contrasted to the boisterous atmosphere of the inn, and Minho couldn’t help but think that she didn’t belong in a place like this. 

“Thanks,” Minho mumbled as he grabbed the key. 

“Can I help you with some food? We have a buy-one-get-one-free deal for beer,” the lady said, a warm but tired smile on her face.

Minho glanced at Jisung who only shrugged before he turned back to the lady. “Sure,” he said easily. 

The woman smiled. “Great! Sit down and I’ll bring you your beer. Have a great night.” 

An empty booth near the front window was where the two tired boys found refuge in. It was a miraculous surprise that the quaint booth was unoccupied in the crowded establishment. They passed by a table of eight females and a table with a single man before Minho slid into the booth and rested his head against the cool window after slinging his swords off his sore shoulders. Jisung slid into the seat across before unceremoniously dropping his head to the wooden table. 

With low-lidded eyes, Minho watched the last drop of sunlight fall past the horizon as a group of loud men tossed two deer carcasses outside the door and entered the establishment. Minho had smelled them before he saw them-- the scent of fresh blood clung to them like a second skin and mingled with the sour odor of sweat. The low light of the inn glinted off the scales dotting their arms and framing their face. One even had a long tail flicking from side to side as he walked.

A few heads turned to glance at the men, some turned away quickly to not be caught staring while a few dared to send them a dirty glare. The men must’ve been used to the looks or otherwise uncaring of the reaction since they only yelled at an innocent man to steal his table, the one next to Minho and Jisung. 

They laughed- cruel and uncaring- before they dumped their hunting rifles onto the table. One kicked his boots up onto the wooden surface, old blood clung to the soles. 

His voice boomed over the crowd. “Our usual, Jihyo! It’s on me!” Minho dubbed him as Loud Asshole.

The man’s companions cheered at the prospect of free booze and food as the woman- the same person Minho had talked to earlier- nodded as she walked by with two beers, headed for Minho’s table. 

“Hold on a second, Jihyo,” one of the other men said as he stuck an arm out and successfully prevented her from passing to Minho’s booth. “Stick around and talk to us for a bit.” 

Jihyo’s face scrunched minutely as the man slid his hand down to rest at her hip. “No, thank you,” she said sternly. “I’m busy.” 

Loud Asshole only leaned back in his seat as he watched his companion- who Minho named Squash Face since his face looked like it was sat on by an elephant.

An irritated sigh slipped past Minho’s chapped lips as the group continued to make a loud ruckus. The group of women at the other table were sending the men disgusted glares but didn’t otherwise move. Minho thought it was cowardly of them to remain silent when they clearly thought the men’s behavior was inappropriate. 

“Look at those assholes,” Jisung muttered. 

Minho’s eyebrows shot up as he turned his attention back to Jisung. Jisung sat straight in his seat as he glared daggers at the group. 

“They’re harassing the poor lady! She’s just trying to do her job, but they won’t leave her alone.”  
  


“If she doesn’t want them to harass her then she should do something about it.” Minho rolled his eyes. He just wanted his food. 

“You’re an asshole too, Minho.” Jisung spat as he turned his attention back to Minho. 

A shudder involuntarily ran down his spine as Jisung’s emerald eyes turned dark with fury. Even though Minho was aware that Jisung’s anger was mostly directed at the men, Minho couldn’t help but be shocked. 

“Hey!” Jisung’s voice was surprisingly sharp and clear as he stood up to face the group of men, face scrunched to an angry scowl. “Back off. She said no.”

“What do you want pipsqueak?” Squash Face muttered as he ran his hand up and down Jihyo’s waist. He sneered as he sized up Jisung. “You must be new here. I’ve never seen you before.” 

Loud Asshole, who seemed to be the one in charge of the group let out a long sigh. “Cut it out Xuxu.” His voice in a low drawl, “look at him, he’s shaking in fear.” 

Minho glanced at Jisung who was indeed shaking, but Minho surmised it was more from anger than fear. Regret started to fill Minho as Squash Face- or Xuxu as he was called- stood up from his seat to glare Jisung down. He didn’t have to try hard to do so since he was a head taller than Jisung. 

“I’m not scared of you.” Jisung’s voice was as cold and strong as steel. 

Minho had to give Jisung credit for staring straight back and not backing down when he had to tilt his head up to see the other properly. 

“I think I’ll have to teach you a lesson,” Xuxu spat before pulling his fist back and throwing it forward. 

Jisung’s eyes automatically closed and he braced for the blow, but it never came. A quiet hush fell over the entire inn as the majority of the customers watched the scene unfold before them.

“Huh?” Minho heard Xuxu’s whisper loud and clear. The words reached Minho’s sensitive ears easily thanks to the quiet environment and his close proximity. 

Minho’s hand wrapped around Xuxu’s fist, successfully blocking the blow inches away from Jisung’s face. The young prince stared at Minho, a mixture of disbelief and something else that Minho couldn’t quite place danced in his emerald eyes. Equal parts shock and confusion swam in Xuxu’s ugly face as his eyes flicked between his fist and Minho’s hand to Minho’s face. 

“Who the hell are you?” Minho heard Loud Asshole mumble. 

Tossing Xuxu’s fist to the side, Minho stood straight and placed himself between the taller male and Jisung, blocking Jisung from their harsh glares. 

“It doesn’t matter,” Xuxu snarled, his breath sweeping over Minho’s face as anger and embarrassment clouded his own face in red. “I will punch your face in too!” 

His fist pulled back once again, but Minho sidestepped the punch easily and dragged Jisung out of the way as well. Minho fought the urge to sneer and taunt the tall male. It was clear he had no real fighting experience since his form was catastrophic. Xuxu threw another punch and another and another, rapid-fire attacks that Minho easily dipped and leaned away from. 

Minho’s hands rested in his pockets, an easy smile on his face as Xuxu grew exponentially sweatier and angrier. Finally, Xuxu stopped and breathed harshly as Minho stood untouched before him, the breeze from the half-open front doors tousled Minho’s black strands.

“That’s it!” Xuxu growled, eyes glinting in fury. 

Before Minho could process what the man could possibly be talking about, Xuxu charged at him like a wild boar, arms outstretched for Minho. Disgust filled Minho at the prospect of being touched by the man-- Minho could still see the dried blood on his arms. 

It was easy for Minho to sidestep the charge and stick his foot out to trip the man. With a startled cry, Xuxu lost his balance, but before he could grace the floor with an up close and personal greeting, Minho twisted to balance on one foot, bringing the other leg up to kick the back of Xuxu’s head with the sole of his boot. 

Explicits fell freely from Xuxu’s thin lips as he tumbled out of the front door and landed head first into the deer carcass his group had brought. 

With a tired huff, Minho brought a hand out of his pocket to run through his hair. “Who’s next?” Minho glared at the group of men and silently dared anyone of them to try to test his patience. 

The group glanced warily between each other before they cast their eyes away as if too scared to look Minho in the eyes. Loud Asshole only gawked at the scene before him then to his friend outside. Minho could hear Xuxu groan before he tried to rise only to slip and fall back into the dead deer. Minho bit back a smile, secretly glad they had enough brain cells to not instigate more. Minho was too tired for this shit. 

As Minho walked back to the booth, whispers erupted throughout the establishment in a mixture of awe and fear, but Minho paid them no mind.

“Let’s go,” Minho mumbled to Jisung as he walked past the younger to grab his swords and head up to their room. 

“Oh! Okay,” Jisung snapped out of his stunned revere and grabbed his satchel before he quickly caught up to Minho. 

The crowd parted easily for Minho and Jisung to brush past. As much as Minho hated unwanted attention, he was glad since he didn’t have to waste any energy to push through. 

“Thank you,” Jihyo whispered when Minho and Jisung walked by.

Minho paused in his steps and gave her a lazy side glance. “I didn’t do it for you,” he mumbled before he walked past, Minho’s arm brushed against hers. 

“Stay safe,” Minho heard Jisung utter before they climbed up the stairs.

The stairs led to a long hallway that stretched far into the distance. Brass lanterns hung on the walls and lit up their path as silence stretched thinly between the pair, broken occasionally by noises from downstairs. The faint scent of mildew and dust tickled Minho’s nostrils. 

“Why’d you do it?” 

“Hm?” Minho questioned distractedly as he looked for their room. 

“Why’d you fight the guy when you didn’t have to? I could’ve handled it,” Jisung mumbled the last sentence quietly. 

Minho rolled his eyes before he turned around to see that Jisung had stopped a few feet before. “Why would I not? You definitely could not have handled that man.” 

Jisung’s left eye twitched, but he remained silent as he picked at the skin near his thumbnail. 

Staring at the young prince for a brief second, Minho sighed and opened the door to their room.

“Are you just gonna stand there and stare at your shoes or are you gonna come in?” Minho called out to Jisung and leaned against the open door. 

Jisung glanced up. Surprise gripped his eyelids and caused his emerald eyes to open wide. He nodded, once, twice, before he entered. 

Their room was modest and small. With a dresser on one end and a queen bed at the other, the only other furniture was a lamp on a bedside table. 

“What happened to two beds?” Minho mumbled under his breath, but he couldn’t find a single fuck to give. After traveling the whole day and having to deal with the annoying man earlier, Minho was just glad to have a bed to sleep on. 

Jisung shrugged and Minho placed his katanas to the side before he unceremoniously fell onto the mattress, his feet dangled off the side. “You can have the bed, I’ll sleep on the floor,” Jisung said. 

“No,” Minho began as he yawned and pulled off his shirt then kicked off his boots. He ignored Jisung when the younger made a noise resembling a strangled pig. “There’s enough space for both of us.” He readjusted himself on the left of the bed, so close to the edge that a single sneeze would be enough to knock him off. 

After a beat of silence, soft rustling noises interrupted the silence as Jisung prepared for sleep. The mattress dipped slightly as Jisung climbed in and Minho curled into himself. Sleep took a firm grasp on both of them and pulled them easily under. 

Neither of them complained. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


As soon as Minho woke up, a sizable yawn took over his body. He blinked lethargically as he recalled where he was. 

_Ah, right. The inn._

Minho held back another yawn as he turned to his side to hide his face from the rising sun rays that- _OH MY GOd._

Jerking back, Minho nearly fell off the bed as he came face to face with Jisung. The younger’s dark blue hair fanned over the pillow and curled around his face to resemble a blueberry. His face squished against where Minho’s shoulder was, his body curled into a small C shape. Jisung sniffled and Minho feared for a second that he had awoken the younger but luckily, the younger boy only curled into himself. 

The early sun rays began to creep into the room, filtering past the thin curtains. The rays, however, never found its way to Jisung’s face since Minho quickly sat up in the bed, blocking the sun from hitting the sleeping boy. The young prince seemed to be having a peaceful sleep since his lips curled up to a gentle smile. Jisung’s long, dark eyelashes fanned across his fair skin, which was flawless except for a few old acne scars. Minho had somehow never realized that Jisung wore small silver hoops on his ears. The sight made Minho reach to touch his own earring. The silver rectangular piece was warm to the touch, most likely because he was sleeping on it. 

A knock on the door snapped Minho from his thoughts. The noise bounced through the small room gently as if cautious not to wake the room’s inhabitants. 

Running a hand through his bed hair, Minho got out of the bed and threw the blanket over Jisung’s face to block the sun. He quickly grabbed his shirt that he threw on the ground the night before and answered the door, one arm through his shirt sleeve. 

“Good morning,” the woman from last night, Jihyo, stood before Minho. Her eyes scanned Minho briefly as a soft red tint colored her cheeks. 

“Can I help you?” Minho mumbled, voice deeper than normal due to just waking up. He slipped on his shirt before he leaned against the door frame and gave her a quick once over. She wore a simple t-shirt and jeans with her short hair tied up into a ponytail, small strands of hair framed her face. 

“I just wanted to say thank you for last night. Well, properly.” She said as her eyes strayed to her shoes. She was a head shorter than Minho so she had to tilt her head when she suddenly snapped her gaze up to look directly in his eyes. “So, thank you!” 

Minho choked on his spit when Jihyo suddenly dropped to her knees and placed her head on the carpet, her hands formed a triangle above her head. 

“Hey, hey,” Minho licked his chapped lips before darting his eyes around. “There’s no need. Get up.” 

“Are you sure?” Jihyo raised her head to gaze up at Minho with wide eyes. 

“Ye-yeah. I’m sure.” Minho offered his hand to help her up, which she took tentatively. 

“You know,” Jihyo began as she dusted off her pants. “I was actually going to handle it yesterday, but your friend spoke before I could.” 

Minho eyed her small arms and thin stature before he scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure.” 

Jihyo squinted at Minho before she slapped his arm with surprising strength. Minho jumped in surprise. “Don’t underestimate me.” 

Swallowing a lump in his throat, Minho nodded. “Sure.” 

“Anyway,” Jihyo began after a beat of silence, “I’m not just here to thank you.” 

“Oh?” Minho arched an eyebrow.

She nodded, her bangs swooshing on her forehead. “I have the day off today so I was wondering if you and your friend wanted to join my friends for breakfast. My treat of course.” 

Minho met her gaze and thought about her proposal. He was definitely up for free food, but having to converse with strangers left Minho exhausted just thinking about it. 

The rejection sat comfortably on the tip of his tongue; however, before he was able to voice it, a chin propped itself on Minho’s left shoulder. 

“What’s happening?” Jisung yawned in Minho’s ear. 

The only reason why Minho fought the urge to cringe away and yell at him was that they had company. 

Jihyo looked between the two of them with a weird look in her eyes before a smile stretched across her pretty face. “Good morning! I was just inviting you and your _boyfriend_ to breakfast with me and my friends.” 

Gagging, Minho shoved Jisung off his shoulder as he willed the heat in his face to disappear and earned himself an irritated grunt from the younger. 

“We’re not dating!” “Sure, we’ll go.”

Minho whipped his head around to glare at Jisung. “We’re not going,” Minho muttered weakly.

An innocent expression splayed across Jisung’s face as Jisung tilted his head, eyes wide and doe-like. 

“We. Are. Going. ” Jisung said, puncturing each word with finality before he gave Minho’s back two pats and disappeared into the bathroom. 

The heat in Minho’s face amplified when Minho realized that Jihyo was watching the entire exchange. Of course she was.

Jihyo’s surprised expression morphed to something resembling a sneer before she snickered behind a well-manicured hand.

“I’ll see you two downstairs.” 

“Y-yeah,” Minho stuttered as he slammed the door shut a little too harshly. He could hear Jihyo’s light laugh through the door as she shuffled away and left Minho alone to deal with the burning sensation in his cheeks. 

_Fuck Jisung. Especially when he’s sleepy and has no filter._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


As it turns out, the group of females Minho and Jisung passed the other day were the same females that made up Jihyo’s friend group. 

“Oh! It’s you!” One of them spoke up as a way of a greeting when Minho and Jisung approached the table. Her large eyes glanced between the two of them.

“Hello!” Jisung greeted easily, bowing forty-five degrees. 

Minho’s eyes flitted across each of them before realizing that there were nine of them. 

“Are you- woah!” 

The question was cut short when a sharp tug on his shirt caused Minho to fall into a crude and awkward half bow. 

“Don’t be rude,” Jisung hissed under his breath. 

Minho sent him a glare but nodded minutely. 

Rising to his full height, a few of the ladies exchanged glances but remained quiet. Some of them stared at Minho’s eyes, flickering between his two different irises as an awkward silence stretched between the two groups. After another second; however, the females before Minho started to laugh.

“Don’t be so formal!” Someone new spoke up, voice soft and smile gentle but she possessed a sharp glint in her eye. Her long black hair swooshed as she turned to her friend, “and don’t be so rude.”

The only recognizable face was Jihyo, who offered Minho a kind smile, but the odd look in her eyes made Minho want to hide in a hole. 

“Sit!” Jihyo said easily, gesturing to two unoccupied chairs. 

Minho and Jisung followed through with the offer, which made the table significantly more crowded, and found plates of food being shoved their way. 

Jisung dug in after Jihyo assured him that they had already eaten, Minho picked at the food tentatively but started to eat after he noticed the glances sent his way when he didn’t move to eat initially. 

Jihyo began to introduce the whole group to Minho and Jisung, but Minho was never the greatest at names so they were quickly forgotten as soon as he learned them. Jisung; however, seemed to have no problem picking up a conversation with the girls. He easily talked and kept the conversation flowing in between bites. Sitting back and letting the conversation flow around him, Minho carefully observed the group before him. 

“So, what brings you two here?” Someone spoke up. She smiled kindly at the two of them and reached to flick off a piece of rice of Jisung’s cheek. 

Nayeon, Minho remembered belatedly. 

“We were just passing through,” Minho spoke up for the first time in a while. 

Ten pairs of eyes suddenly found their way to Minho’s face and Minho squirmed in his seat. 

Jisung spoke up much to Minho’s relief. The sets of eyes wandered off of Minho to find Jisung instead-- their gazes no longer burned holes into Minho’s face. “We need to go further north-east.”

The girls before them exchanged glances, seemingly conversing through their eyes. Jihyo was the first to speak after a short silence. 

“Hey, so are we! We should travel together.” Her full lips turned into a smile. 

Minho found himself agreeing easily enough. Their offer was what Minho was aiming for. If they traveled together, he could decipher if they were the group the Chan mentioned, and if so, he can help Jisung accomplish his goals then leave and never return. 

However, it was not Minho who voiced their agreement. “Sure!” Jisung’s smile was blinding. “The more the merrier, right?” 

“We’re going to leave tonight, so get your shit ready,” Jeongyeon said as the others nodded their heads in confirmation. 

“That’s fine.” A far away look flashed across Jisung’s face. “I only need to do a few things and then I’ll be ready.” 

Dahyun tilted her head, causing her braid to fall into her coffee. “What do you need to do?” 

Minho glanced at the slightly shorter boy with confusion, he didn’t know about this either.

Jisung hummed for a brief second as he picked up a stand of hair. His eyes went cross-eyed when he tried to examine the short strands. “I want to dye my hair.” 

A collective ah stretched across the table before Sana spoke up. “That’s a good idea. Something less noticeable would be good.” 

“Do you have any ideas with that color you want to do?” Nayeon asked, much to Minho’s relief. 

Minho was never one to care about trivial matters like hair color, but he couldn’t help the curiosity burning inside. 

Jisung grinned, eyes crinkling to crescents. “It’s a surprise!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho sat on one of the bar stools with his head propped on a hand. The can of soda that he was nursing left a ring of water when he picked up the container to take a sip. Jihyo stood behind the bar, taking care, and cleaning the glasses. When Minho had asked why she was cleaning when she was leaving in a couple of hours, she laughed and said that she was going to leave the place better than she had found it. 

Minho had only shrugged and sat down. 

The others were out doing their own things before they left the small town for good. Minho didn’t have much to do, packing extra food only took so long, so he resorted to cleaning his knife with a cocktail napkin. 

The sun basked the inn in a warm golden glow, making Minho lethargic. Jihyo must’ve noticed the yawn Minho tried to stifle since a teasing smile stretched across her face.

However, before Jihyo could comment, the front door to the inn suddenly swung open, and a gust of wind blew against Minho’s back. 

“It’s done!” Dahyun came in before Jisung, holding the younger’s cloak in front of his face to hide his hair. 

Minho turned around on the barstool with his drink, mouth downturned but eyes curious. 

“Well, show us already!” Jihyo laughed as she placed the glass she was cleaning down.

Dahyun giggled before mimicking a drumroll and teasing the two of them by pretending to drop the cloak only to raise it again. 

“Hurry up already!” Mina said from beside Minho, seemingly appearing out of nowhere. 

“Oh shit!” Jeongyeon suddenly spoke up, appearing from behind Dahyun and Jisung. “You look good, Jisungie!” 

The nickname caught Minho by surprise. Apparently, everyone had already warmed up to Jisung. Everyone except Minho himself. A nasty, bitter taste lingered on his tongue before he quickly shooed the thought away from his mind. Actually, it was better this way. Minho was close to leaving so his relations with Jisung were coming to a fast close. 

“Stop teasing us,” Jihyo groaned as she threw a chunk of ice at Dahyun’s forehead. 

Minho hid his laugh by taking a slow slip from his can but Jeongyeon and Mina laughed unabashedly. 

“Ow! Alright, geeze. No need to get violent.” Dahyun muttered before she whisked the cloak away without any further notice.

Taking a slip had been a mistake because as soon as Jisung’s face came into view, Minho choked on the bubbly beverage. Heat quickly rose to his cheeks as Minho whipped the liquid on his chin away. 

Jisung looked good, Minho had to admit. Jihyo and Mina fawned over Jisung’s freshly dyed hair and showered him with compliments. 

His hair was now a warm brown, bringing out the gold in his emerald eyes. Despite the harsh process of dying hair, Jisung’s hair looked healthy and shiny especially when the golden sunlight filtered in the window to highlight the crown of his head. 

A warm, happy smile perched on Jisung's lips and he playfully twirled, thanking his ‘fans.’ 

Minho had to look away. The sight was bad for his health. 

“What do you think, Minho?” 

Balking for a second, Minho turned to face Jihyo with a murderous look in his eyes. The older female only returned his look with a sinister grin. 

“What?” Minho said dumbly but the heat on his face still lingered. “Think about what?”

Mina rolled her eyes playfully, her slender hands on her hips. “Of his hair, silly!” 

Minho looked back to Jisung who was watching the exchange carefully. Swallowing the lump in his throat, Minho looked away. “It’s fine, I guess. It’s just hair.” 

“I smell bullshit!” Chaeyoung shouted from the stairs. “He thinks you look lovely, Jisungie!” 

Before Minho could even say anything, the can in Minho’s hand suddenly exploded when Minho clenched the container a little too harshly. The dark liquid splashed across the front of his shirt as explicits fell from Minho’s lips. 

After a beat of silence, Jihyo was the first to laugh. The rest followed soon after except for Jisung who seemed to find sudden interest in the floor. 

“Are you okay?” Mina asked as she passed over a napkin. Minho would have found the question sincere if she wasn’t fighting back laughter. 

“Yeah,” Minho grumbled as he pathetically tried to dab his shirt dry. The liquid had already begun to seep through the material, which left his chest sticky and cold.

“That looks uncomfortable,” Chaeyoung commented from where she sat, amusement twinkling in her eyes. “Maybe you should take it off.” 

“No, I’ll just deal with it. I don’t have another shirt to change into anyway.” Minho grimace. Luckily the stain won’t be noticeable since the shirt was black. 

Dahyun looked at Minho with her eyebrows pulled together. “You don’t have another shirt? That’s an essential item when traveling.” 

“Look,” Minho began with a sigh. “This trip was a little impromptu.” He sent Jisung a look and the younger boy had the nerve to look ashamed. 

“Well, then just buy another,” Jeongyeon spoke up and Dahyun began to nod enthusiastically. 

With a sigh and a scrunch of his nose, Minho gave up on dabbing his shirt dry. “Yeah, it’s probably better in the long run.” 

Dahyun’s face lit up like a kid in a candy shop and suddenly Minho regretted his response. 

“Oh, that’s great!” Dahyun’s smile could rival the sun. “Let’s go! We don’t have much time left.” 

The protest on the tip of Minho’s tongue was quickly forgotten as Dahyun grabbed his hand and whisked him out the same doors she entered minutes before. The stunned expression on Jisung’s face burned onto the back of Minho’s retinas as Dahyun pulled Minho into the open streets. 

Perhaps the rest of them had warmed up to Minho too.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The rose-red hoodie Dahyun had found for Minho was impeccably soft, much to Minho’s clandestine satisfaction. The only downside was that the material stood out due to its rich color. 

Sana had caught Minho scrubbing his shirt clean and offered to toss it in the washing machine, a kind smile on her face when Minho choked out a yes. It was out of the ordinary for Minho to accept other’s help, but it was hard to refuse her gentle eyes. 

Once the shirt was cleaned and Minho ditched the red hoodie for his own shirt, Minho climbed the stairs down with Sana behind him. As he was about to turn to the main area of the inn, a gentle hand grabbed his wrist. 

“This way,” Jisung said before disappearing behind a sharp corner and into darkness. 

Minho glanced at Sana, who only shared a nod. 

The hallway was dark with multiple doors and smelled strongly of mildew. 

“You ever been back here?” Minho mumbled to Sana as they walked carefully down the poorly illuminated hallway.

“Nope. Jihyo has though.” 

Minho rounded another corner and was greeted by the rest of the group waiting for them in front of a heavy-looking stone door. This was the only stone door, the rest that they had passed by was wood. 

“Where’s Jihyo?” Minho asked Tzuyu. 

“She’ll be here soon,” Tzuyu said, unconcerned. 

It wasn’t like Minho didn’t care about the older female, but Minho was itching to leave. Jihyo had explained earlier that they were leaving at nightfall but she didn’t explain where they were going exactly. It had been clear that she wasn’t going to tell them more so Minho and Jisung were forced to remain in the dark. 

“Woah!” Minho heard Jisung before he saw him. 

Turning around, Minho watched as Jisung’s satchel began to glow a faint blue before the light disappeared entirely. 

Momo laughed at Jisung’s reaction. “Now, watch.” A mischievous look overtook her pretty face before she opened Jisung’s bag and shoved her entire arm into it, all the way to her shoulder. 

“No way,” Jisung breathed, excitement sparkling in his eyes. 

A few of the girls laughed at Jisung’s expression before Momo looked up to see Minho watching, seemingly mystified. 

“Hand me your vest,” Momo said as she stretched her arm out. 

Caught off guard, Minho handed it over without another word. 

Momo closed her eyes for a moment before she began to mumble a few words. Again, the faint blue glow appeared but this time it was Minho’s tactical vest that was glowing.

“There we go,” Momo said as she opened her eyes and grinned. Her eyes, Minho noticed now that she was looking directly at him, glowed blue as well but disappeared within seconds. 

“Oh, thanks,” Minho murmured as he opened one of the pockets and stuck his whole forearm in even though it looked like it could barely fit a baseball. But before Minho could transfer everything into the vest and ditched any unnecessary weight, a voice stole his attention. 

“Ah, there you are!” Someone said, drawing the attention to the figure quickly approaching.

Jihyo ran her hand through her short hair, an apologetic smile on her face. “It’ll be easier to leave if we used the back exit,” Jihyo said as a way of greeting and as an explanation. 

Moving to the side, which coincidentally ended up being next to Jisung, Minho shrugged on his vest again as Jihyo slammed the door open. 

A cool gust of air along with the stale scent of trash greeted the group when they began to filter out. 

“Delicious,” Jisung mumbled dryly. 

“This way,” Jihyo gestured with her head to the far end of the alleyway.

They transversed through the alleyway easily since most people were either tucked inside their homes or appeared indifferent about them. Despite that though, Minho didn’t drop his guard.

“Are you now going to tell us where we’re going?” Minho couldn't believe he trusted them enough to blindly follow wherever they’re going. 

Jihyo nodded before she looked over her shoulder to give Minho a quick reassuring glance. “There’s a railroad a little bit away. I talked to the conductor and he said that he’ll give us a ride to the next major city.” 

Jisung’s mouth dropped open to form an ‘o’ shape, which made Minho look away before he could laugh at his fish-like appearance.

“What’s the catch?” Minho said.

“Nothing gets past you, does it?” Jihyo laughed quietly before her gaze quickly sharpened. “We have to ride with the cargo so it won’t be the most comfortable journey. We’re also going to be passing by a smaller city that’s been under a lot of protests and civil unrest. It won’t be the safest, but as long as we lay low and keep out of the conductor’s way, we should be fine.” 

Minho nodded but couldn’t help and notice the sour expression on Jisung’s face. 

“Why are the people upset?” Jisung asked Jihyo but Nayeon was the one to answer.

“The town has a close history with Korean royalty.” She began, her voice light despite the heavy topic. “The Chinese government doesn’t really like their loyalty to Korea.”

Neither Minho nor Jisung said anything but Minho could see how tense Jisung had gotten. But before Minho could pry any answers from the younger, they reached the train station. An old man with an even older cap was waiting for them. 

Jihyo approached the man and said something in Chinese that was far too advanced for Minho to understand.

“Follow me,” the man said in heavily accented Korean. At least Minho understood that. 

They were led to one of the last few cabooses which was lined with pallets with various items. A small section in the back was cleared of pallets and once they settled in, the man rearranged the cargo to hide them from view. 

Sitting down with a soft groan, Minho leaned against the cold metal wall of the caboose and watched the others settle down. Jisung was talking animatedly with Dahyun, using his hands in wild gestures to emphasize something to the other. 

“Hey.”

Minho glanced up to see Mina smiling at him. “Can I help you?”

“Can I sit here?” She gestured to Minho’s left. 

After Minho noded and scooted over a bit, Mina sat down with a soft sigh. A few quiet seconds passed by and with the sound of a horn and a sudden jerk, the train started to move. It was nice to be on the move again, Minho realized. It meant being close to the end of this and it meant returning to Hyunjin and Felix. And perhaps he missed Seungmin and Jeongin too. 

“Where are you from, Minho?” Mina suddenly said and broke the comfortable silence between them. 

“Some mountains in the north.”

“Oh, so am I!” 

Minho turned slightly to look at Mina from the corner of his eye. She played with the string of her hoodie as she stared ahead. 

“Yeah?” Minho really needed to improve his communication skills. 

Mina’s eyes crinkled slightly as she nodded. “I think you and I are a lot more similar than we think.” 

Swallowing the urge to laugh, Minho flashed her a small grin. “There’s no way.” _No one is nearly as fucked up as I am._

After a thoughtful second, Mina turned to face Minho properly. “Yeah, you’re one of the Descendents too, aren’t you?” 

Caught off guard, Minho’s eyes widened rapidly as his heart rate picked up. _How did she know?_

“I mean, not to be rude, but it was pretty obvious to me. You always seem to hear and smell things before anyone else. Your reactions are quick and not to be a total creep, but you smell like home.” Mina’s eyes swam with sincerity, putting Minho on edge. 

“O-oh.” He couldn’t help but be uncomfortable at her observations. It was off-putting how she had noticed so many details in such a short amount of time yet Minho barely knew her. The upper hand that she held made Minho want to keep a knife between them just so Minho wasn’t below her. 

“Relax.” She grinned at Minho’s stiffness. “We’re all friends here.” 

Nodding slowly, Minho looked at the rest of the people in the small area. Most of them were talking with Jisung, laughing at something dumb Jisung probably said. Nayeon was leaning against Sana, both of which were fast asleep despite the loud ruckus. 

Maybe it was a good thing that Mina approached Minho about being one of the Descendants. That meant that they were indeed the group the prophecy was talking about. However, as Minho sat there and thought about it, Minho realized that he had more questions than answers.

“Anyway,” Mina began, drawing Minho’s attention back to her, “we can talk more tomorrow. We should get some sleep since we have a long way to go.” 

Nodding, Minho watched Mina rise and tell the others to quiet down and sleep. She was met with a few groans and protest but after a stern look, the others quieted down and prepared for sleep. 

The train rumbled on, the rhythmic motion slowly lulled Minho to sleep. Minho was one of the first to reach unconsciousness, which was out of the ordinary since he was never one to sleep soundly with strangers. Maybe he was more exhausted than he thought.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Most people would awake to the sound of birds chirping or awake from the gentle prodding of someone they trust. 

But not Minho because life could never be that easy. 

Minho awoke to the sound of metal scraping against metal followed by a loud bang that left Minho’s ears ringing. 

Scrambling to his feet, he pulled Jisung to his side. “Stay behind me,” he whispered harshly. 

“What the hell?” Someone screamed as a louder explosion erupted close by. 

It was eerily silent for a second before Minho noticed that the cargo in the caboose started to slide over. Eyes widening in realization, Minho opened his mouth to shout a warning but another explosion sounded and the caboose started tilting, causing everyone and all the cargo to tilt within the compartment. 

Minho acted purely on instincts.

Reaching out, Minho pulled Jisung close to his chest before he slipped through the empty space of two tall pallets. The world slowed as Minho placed a protective hand behind Jisung’s head just before they jostled back and forth, the pallets around them shifted. Using his other forearm and his back to press against the pallet behind him, Minho made sure that they wouldn’t get crushed. He was glad that the cargo was something light.

Then suddenly all at once, the world stilled as the dust slowly settled around them. Cracking an eye open, Minho was greeted by complete darkness since another pallet had slid over to block them in. The other side was blocked by the actual wall of the train. 

“Is everyone okay?” Jihyo’s voice was muffled. She seemed alright if not a little shaken up. 

Minho glanced down to see that Jisung was clenching the front of his tactical vest, shaking like a fragile leaf in a winter storm. He squeezed his eyes tight as he buried his face in Minho’s neck. 

With a soft sigh, Minho called back. “Jisung and I are alright.” 

A few others called back but it was definitely not everyone. 

“Are you okay?” Minho mumbled to Jisung.

Jisung didn’t move for a second before Minho felt a small nod against his clavicle. The comfortable scent of fresh oranges and faint mint was stronger now that Jisung’s hair was right under Minho’s sensitive nose. 

“That’s-” Minho began but didn’t finish. He couldn’t when the overwhelming smell of blood overtook his senses. “Shit.”

“What?” Jisung’s small voice shook and quivered against his skin.

“Nothing,” Minho choked out, hoping Jisung wouldn’t pick up on his lie. He knew that Jisung would eventually notice, but even Minho didn’t have the heart to break it to him. 

Moving his arm from where they were pushing against the pallet, Minho tried to hide his wince but little things were hard to miss when you were literally chest to chest with another. 

“Everything okay?” Jisung asked Minho this time.

Minho nodded slightly. “Just some scratches but I’ll be fine.” 

“That’s good.” Jisung breathed a sigh of relief. 

“Minho? Jisung?” Jihyo’s voice echoed above them. “Where are you?”

“Over here,” Minho called out, hoping that was enough to reveal where he was. After a moment of shuffling and a bit of grunting, both Jihyo and Chaeyoung's faces appeared through the small gap they had managed to create above Minho and Jisung. 

“Hey, guys.” Chaeyoung offered them a small smile. “You two doing alright?” 

“Yeah,” Jisung tried to return a smile but it looked more like a grimace. “No broken bones.” 

“That’s good,” Jihyo mumbled before offering them a hand. 

Jisung was the first to go after Minho had wordlessly pushed him up with firm hands on his waist. Jihyo then pulled Jisung up with a small grunt. Minho soon after pulled himself up with relative ease.

After dusting off his pants, Minho glanced up behind Jisung and couldn’t help it when his eyes widened in surprise. 

“What is it?” Jisung asked before he started to turn around. 

Without thinking, Minho grabbed the back of Jisung’s head and pulled the younger to his chest. 

“Don’t look,” Minho whispered. “Trust me.” 

Something must’ve leaked into Minho’s voice since Jisung didn’t put up a fight, seemingly understanding that Minho was looking out for him. 

The scene in the caboose was one resembling a nightmare. Blood splattered against various pallets from those unlucky and after a careful scan, Minho caught a few limbs scattered precariously, bones in unnatural angles. Other than Jihyo and Chaeyoung, Mina, Dahyun, Momo, and Nayeon were alive. 

“Is this everyone?” Minho mumbled but his voice echoed. Jisung swallowed hard. 

Jihyo gave him a slow nod as a few of them started to cry. Minho could only spare them a pitiful glance before darting his eyes away. 

Minho busied himself by observing the gap in the side of the caboose. The mental curved inwards, the doing of a powerful explosive. They were exposed to the rising sun as the first beginnings of the day started to filter in. Smoke bellowed outside, the grey puffs curved within itself before it dissipated into nothingness. After the multiple explosions and the crash itself, the silence burned in Minho’s ears despite the ringing. 

“Let’s get out of here.” Minho offered and he was greeted with agreement.

Scanning the area for anything useful, Minho only managed to find Jisung’s satchel, which was surprisingly intact, but he couldn’t find Jisung’s cloak or his own satchel. Minho didn’t really care, he was just glad that he never took off his katanas or his tactical vest, which were both a little banged up, but otherwise still functional. 

Threading his fingers together, Minho helped Jisung climb on top of what was once the side of the caboose and now was the top. Helping everyone else, Minho took Jihyo’s outstretched hand to let himself be pulled up. 

“Oh my God.” Minho heard Dahyun murmur next to him. 

God was not going to save anyone but Minho knew what she meant. For miles, the train stretched before them, various parts of the metal snake were up in flames or smoking from the explosions. 

“Who would do this?” Nayeon said behind Minho. 

The others inched closer to the edge of the caboose, entranced by the catastrophe, but Minho reached out to stop Jisung from following them to the edge. 

“What is it?” Jisung asked quietly. 

Minho wasn’t exactly sure why he had stopped the younger boy but a bad feeling started to pool at the base of his stomach. Glancing warily around, Minho searched the trees surrounding them, turning slowly in a circle. 

“We’re being watched. They’re not gone.” 

“What are you talking about?” Jisung hissed. “Who’s not gone?” 

A sudden movement flashed in the peripheral of Minho’s gaze but when he turned to look, the figure was gone. Unbeknownst to Minho, he had reached out to grab Jisung’s arm as the unease filled his lungs and made the back of his neck sweat. 

“Just stay close,” Minho whispered.

Then all at once a figure seemed to appear out of nowhere. They stood crooked, more weight placed on one foot. They wore a bone-white mask with horns protruding from the left and right temple and on either side of its chin. The mouth of the figure was chizeled to a sinister grin, the canine teeth long and concave. Red fur surrounded the peripheral of the mask and resembled fire as it tousled in the gentle breeze. The figure before them wore a loose linen shirt and pants, its bare feet calloused. The crude iron yari the person held glinted dangerously in the sunlight.

Minho took a sharp breath and he pushed Jisung behind him. 

The figure didn’t move until smoke seemed to seemingly appear out of nowhere. It drifted out of the nostrils and the open mouth of the mask when suddenly, the forehead twisted until what seemed like a vertical eye appeared. 

“What the hell is that?” Mina asked from behind Minho. 

“The mask is an Akuma. Japan’s Satan.” Jisung’s voice shook slightly as his words left his mouth. 

“I’ll kill him,” Minho spat, voice low and dangerous. 

However, before Minho could even take another breath, the eye opened to reveal a bloody red iris that contrasted with the stark white sclera. Then with a blink, the figure disappeared. 

Minho found himself frozen in place and Jisung’s breath hitched behind him. Slowly, as if something was turning his head for him, Minho came face to face with the masked figure. 

“Wha-” 

The figure moved before Minho could process what was happening. With a sharp thrust, Minho felt a dull ache, like he was punched. 

Glancing down, Minho watched as the figure pulled it’s yari out of Minho’s lower left abdomen with a splash of blood. 

Then pain. Sharp pain that left Minho gasping for breath. His legs felt weak and his throat constricted as panic started to rob him of oxygen. Placing his hands on the stab wound, Minho winced through the pain as he started to apply pressure. 

“Oh my god.”

“Minho!” 

People were yelling but it might as well have been one person since the voices started to all sound the same. The ringing had returned and Minho couldn’t concentrate on anything as his knees gave out from under him. 

“Minho, get it together!” 

Minho’s eyes flew open despite the fact that Minho wasn’t even aware that they were closed in the first place. Glancing up, Minho watched in slow motion as the Akuma pulled his arm back to stab Jisung next. 

Purely on instinct, Minho unsheathed one of his katana and with an upward thrust, the blade sliced through the figure like butter. 

The Akuma paused in its tracks and it glanced at the wound then at Minho. The eye on its forehead blinked lethargically before blood began to leak like tears. 

Then just like how the figure first appeared, it disappeared, only leaving behind a small splatter of blood and the sound of leaves rustling behind them. 

Placing his katana back into the scabbard, Minho tried to stand only to fall back on his arms and knees. 

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” 

Minho blinked with difficulty, it was hard to keep his eyes open. 

“You’ll be okay.” Jisung’s face slowly came into view. He had to blink his eyes rapidly to see Jisung clearly. “Shit, you’re losing a lot of blood.”

Jisung’s voice was both too loud and too quiet for Minho to process what was happening. But after mulling over the younger’s words, Minho realized what exactly had happened. 

“I’m fine.” Minho lied. "Just surprised."

“Like hell you are,” Jisung’s voice was shrill as panic began to take its hold. 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Just help me up.” 

Jisung swallowed before taking Minho’s arm to hoist him up. Biting the inside of his cheek to keep himself from crying out, Minho leaned against Jisung. 

“Fuck,” Jihyo hissed as she slowly began to approach them. 

“It’s not that- behind you!” Minho choked out as another Akuma appeared behind Jihyo. 

Luckily for them, the figure was not as agile as the other and Jihyo managed to dodge before the figure’s yari impaled her head. 

However soon after, more figures started to appear and slowly surrounded them. 

“You two need to leave. Now.” Nayeon yelled at the two of them. 

“What about you?” Jisung called back as he shifted around to watch the Akuma appear. 

“Don’t worry about us,” Dahyun gave them a weak smile. “Just go!” 

Minho felt Jisung tense beside him before the younger boy tightened his hold on Minho's waist. 

“I’ll be fine,” Minho said between clenched teeth as he pushed off Jisung to stand on his own. 

“No, you’re not! You’re losing too much blood and-”

“We don’t have enough time,” Minho hissed before his eyes went wide. Tugging Jisung out of the way, the younger was left with a small scratch on his arm as an Akuma suddenly attacked.

“Fine,” Jisung croaked. “Let’s go.” 

Nodding once and placing a firm grasp on his bleeding abdomen, Minho ran to the edge and jumped. 

He had absolutely no idea how high up they were but he could only pray that breaking his fall with a roll was enough.

And luckily for Minho, it was. 

Minho gritted his teeth shut as he choked back a groan. The taste of blood filled his mouth as he rose onto his shaky legs and Minho glanced up to see Jisung staring down, eyes wide as the wind ruffled his brown locks. 

“You need to jump!” Minho yelled. “Just trust me, I’ll catch you.” 

Jisung’s eyes flicked from the ground to Minho’s face for a split second but it was enough for Jisung to take a tentative step back and push off. Jisung fell from the caboose without a second to spare as an Akuma suddenly appeared where Jisung was a mere second ago.

Biting back a cry of pain, Jisung crashed into Minho’s chest and made it safely to the ground. 

The Akuma that chased after Jisung was quickly stabbed by a makeshift spear as Jihyo appeared over the edge. 

“Just go!” She yelled, an encouraging smile on her lips. “We’ll catch up to you.” 

Minho only stared, mouth agape, for a second longer before his eyes steeled. Minho could only hope that the universe was kind enough to help them before he grabbed Jisung’s arm and ran into the forest. 

They ran and ran and ran. Even when their lungs were ablaze, they still ran as hard as their legs allowed them to. 

The farther they got into the forest, the more the air around them chilled due to the dense foliage blocking the sun. But even if the air was crisp and clean due to the abundant trees, Minho still couldn’t find any oxygen as they stopped and leaned against the trees. 

For a moment, the only sound around them was their shallow gasps for air.

“Do you think we lost them?” Jisung asked from where he had slid to the ground. 

Minho barely heard him over the ringing in his ears. His skin felt sticky with sweat, which may not entirely be from the run.

“Minho?” 

It took a second for Minho to process that Jisung was talking to him.

“Ye-yeah?” Minho heard himself say. 

Jisung must’ve said something because his blurry figure moved his equally blurry mouth, but it was futile because black began to overtake his vision, and soon after, Minho’s consciousness slipped out of his firm grasp. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“-ho? Minho!”

“Wha-What? I’m a- ow!” 

A sharp hiss slipped through Minho’s teeth as he instinctively tried to sit but was met with a sharp pain shooting up his side. 

Ah, right. He was stabbed.

Blinking rapidly to clear his blurry vision, Jisung’s face came into focus as the younger boy watched Minho with a worried expression; however, his gaze kept darting from his face to a little above his head. Minho must’ve been worse for wear because his vision refused to clear up properly. It was as if someone had placed a thin filter over his eyes. What should have been luscious green trees were instead brown and dull.

“What?” Minho’s voice cracked at the end.

“Wha- oh, nothing,” Jisung said quickly, jumping out of his thoughts, and moved to pull a first aid kit from his bag. “It's just that-” a teasing smile inched its way onto his face. Minho squinted his eyes in suspicion. “-I didn’t realize that you could be cute.”

”What on earth are you talking about?” Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m bleeding out here, Jisung. I don’t have the time nor the blood to be listening to your jokes.” Who knew that being stabbed would bring the sass out of Minho.

Jisung rolled his eyes as he pointed to the top of Minho’s head with the sterilized needle. “If you think I’m joking then you’re the joke.” 

“Sometimes you’re an actual piece of- fuck!” Minho hissed as his hands came into contact with something soft and fluffy on top of his head. A tingling sensation ran down his spine and to his core when he patted the ears carelessly. Quickly moving his hands down, his suspicions were proven correct when his human ears were gone. 

Running his tongue across his top teeth, his tongue snagged on elongated canines but a quick glance down gave Minho relief when he didn’t see a tail. 

“Your pupils are thin. Like slits.” 

Minho groaned as he laid down on the soft moss below him. “Give me a second,” Minho said before screwing his eyes shut and concentrating. 

“Can I touch them?”

“No, and I said shut up.” 

Minho didn’t need to look to know that a pout was on the lips of the younger boy. Minho didn’t care though. 

After a second of concentration, Jisung gasped and Minho opened his eyes slowly. Giving his head a gentle pat and running his tongue across his teeth, Minho was met with normalcy. The world was back to its vibrant shades one again.

“Can I at least ask why?” Jisung asked as Minho tried to catch his breath.

With a sigh, Minho figured that he should probably explain. “Look, when I’m stressed or if my body is stressed, sometimes it's a little hard to control which form I’m in and I partially shift subconsciously because it's easier to heal and recover when I’m in my other form.” Minho could feel his face heat up in embarrassment but Jisung must’ve decided to cut him some slack and remained silent. 

“Well, now that you’re normal, let’s get started, shall we?” The needle glinted in the sunlight. 

  
  
  
  
  


“Arggshsdg.”

“Are you alright?” Jisung glanced up from his work to peer at Minho with a worried expression. His pink tongue stuck out slightly as his eyebrows pulled close together in concentration. “Does it hurt?” 

“Ha,” Minho couldn’t hold back the dry laugh, but he quickly wished he did. Sharp pain shot up his side as his abdominal muscles constricted and left him breathless. “Not at all.”

“Good.” Jisung rolled his eyes and stuck the curved needle into Minho’s skin once again without any further notice. 

“Shit!” Minho hissed through gritted teeth. His hands curled into the soft moss that he laid on as the needle pierced his skin to stitch the wound close. 

Jisung sighed but didn’t look mad. “Stop moving. You need to relax.” 

“Easy for you to say,” Minho grunted as Jisung continued without stopping. “You’re not the one getting a million papercuts all at once.”

Tense silence fell over them as Jisung stitched Minho’s wound and Minho tried his best not to punch Jisung out of reflex. 

After what felt like centuries, Jisung snipped the excess thread. “There. You don’t have a gaping hole in your side anymore.” Jisung sat back as he admired his handiwork and wiped away a thin layer of sweat on his hairline. 

Minho rose to rest on his forearms with a hiss. “I think I prefer having a gaping hole.” 

“Sure, sure,” Jisung said as he moved to bandage the wound. “At least you’re alive.” 

A sarcastic remark rested on the tip of Minho’s tongue, but Minho never said it. A vulnerable expression crossed Jisung’s delicate face briefly, which left Minho recoiling and thinking carefully about his words. 

The leaves above them rustled as a faint breeze passed by. Jisung’s brown hair blew in his eyes, but the younger didn’t move to readjust his fringe. Minho reached, hand partially raised to fix it for the younger boy, but Jisung shifted away before he could. 

“Anyway, we can rest for now. Once you’re feeling good enough to move, we can start walking. We need to get out of the forest by nightfall or at least find a good place to rest if we don’t make it.” Jisung’s hands trembled as he started putting away the materials he used. 

The sight confused Minho. Why were his hands shaking now? They weren’t when he pulled the needle through Minho’s skin. 

Jisung sniffled a few times and Minho almost asked if Jisung needed a tissue before crystalline teardrops fell from his emerald eyes and caught the afternoon sunlight as they melted into the moss below. Did Minho make him cry? _Shit._ Confusion and guilt clenched Minho’s heart as a few more tears fell and left Minho’s mind scrambling for an explanation. 

Minho took notice of the dried blood under Jisung’s fingernails as his eyes trailed up the Prince’s slender hands. Minho reached Jisung’s forearm, which was decorated with a bruise in the early stage of forming before trailing further, a long cut stretched across his upper arm. It was shallow, the was blood dried already. 

Maybe it was because of the blood loss, but Minho felt that he probably should comfort Jisung. The only problem was that Minho had absolutely no idea how to comfort someone with words, Hyujin and Felix were always superior in that aspect. A million different thoughts and possibilities swirled in Minho's chaotic mind but he was still unsure of what to do, he only knew that he had to do _something_. Seeing Jisung cry left a weird feeling in his chest.

Minho opened his mouth once, twice, before he realized that he had no idea what to say. After taking a shaky breath, Minho swallowed the lump in his throat and decided to use a different approach. Without saying anything, Minho placed a hand on top of Jisung’s to stop the younger boy from putting away the materials. 

Even if Minho’s hand rested on top of Jisung’s for a brief moment, it was enough for Minho to notice that even their hands were starkly different. Minho’s hand easily engulfed Jisung’s in both length and width. His warm and smooth, and Minho’s dry and calloused. 

Taking the cotton ball from his loose grasp, Minho poured some of the rubbing alcohol onto the fluffy material before grabbing Jisung’s forearm. Jisung’s head snapped up, eyes wide and glassy.

“Come closer, I can’t move much.” 

Jisung shuffled closer while Minho bit back a grimace. Stretching his arm out, Minho quickly cleaned the wound as Jisung wiped his tears away. 

“Why were you crying?” Minho asked Jisung, his focus never straying from the task at hand. 

Sniffling again, Jisung turned to hide his face. “I wasn’t crying,” he mumbled. 

Minho sighed. The day’s events were catching up with him and left him tired and scrambling to find energy. He wrapped the cut and returned the used items to their proper place in the kit before he slid a hand under Jisung’s fringe to look him clearly in the eyes. 

Shocked, Jisung couldn’t hide the tear that slipped from the corner of his eye. 

“Don’t lie to me,” Minho said quietly, but sternly. 

A delicate silence stretched between them before Minho moved slowly to give the younger plenty of time to move away if he didn’t want Minho to touch him. Minho reached with a cautious hand to gently flick the stray tear away. 

Minho’s heart hammered within his chest as Jisung stared back with a vulnerable look. They were close, too close for Minho’s personal preference. If Minho really wanted to, he could count Jisung’s delicate eyelashes as they fluttered when the younger boy blinked. If Minho really wanted to, he could kill the boy and be done with this crazy adventure. 

But he didn’t. He couldn’t. 

This was strange. Maybe Minho didn’t hate Jisung as much as he thought he did.

Jisung exhaled as Minho inhaled. The familiar scent of spring oranges and faint mint tickled his nose. 

Suddenly embarrassed by his actions, Minho snapped his hand away as if burned, then quickly turned his head away to break the weird tension growing between them. 

“Nevermind,” he mumbled before turning to lie on his side, his back faced Jisung. 

He doesn’t care.

Jisung didn’t say anything for a while, only shifting to rest near Minho. The crisp air around them made breathing easy and the thick foliage provided ample protection from the sun’s harsh rays. 

The blades of grass between Minho’s fingertips danced as the wind brushed against them. Perhaps, if Minho was back home, he would’ve taken a nap. 

And maybe Jisung was thinking the same because he began to speak with a meek timbre. 

“I was scared.” After a beat of silence, the sounds of clothes rustling against the grass told Minho that the young prince had turned around. “Of you leaving. And of being alone.” 

Exhaling, Minho turned onto his back and met Jisung’s eyes. His eyes widened minutely, most likely surprised that Minho was awake. The look didn’t last long before an embarrassed flush began to color the high points of his cheekbones and ears. 

“It’s going to take a lot more than that to get rid of me,” Minho said as a matter of fact. 

They were too close again, but Minho didn’t have it within himself to turn away, not again. Luckily, he didn’t need to since Jisung took the responsibility and broke the intense eye contact by looking up into the foliage above. 

“You’ll probably die from something stupid,” Jisung spat weakly. “Like by choking on your own spit or something.”

“Brat,” Minho hissed but without any bite to it. 

Satisfaction bloomed and warmed Minho’s chest as a fragile but sincere smile stretched across Jisung’s face. 

Minho didn’t let himself bask in it for long and instead chose to interrupt the comfortable silence by pushing himself up onto shaky legs. 

“Let’s get going.” Minho offered Jisung a hand, which the younger boy took without a second thought.

“Are you alright to move?” Jisung's face scrunched as he gestured to the stitches which were visible through the hole in Minho’s shirt. “I don’t wanna restitch after you rip them open.”

Rolling his mismatched eyes, Minho resisted the urge to punch Jisung’s arm. “I heal fast. Don’t worry about it.” 

Minho fixed his tactical vest before he marched in a random direction. He didn’t miss the ‘I don’t worry about you,’ weakly muttered by Jisung, but Minho decided not to comment on it. 

They walked in whichever direction they wanted for what seemed like hours. North might as well be south, they couldn’t tell the difference. The forest stretched for miles and it all looked the same. The dark bark of the trees stretched to the sky, their rich green leaves waved effortlessly above their heads. The soft moss squished under the soles of their shoes as the occasional crow fluttered past.

“Don’t you feel bad?” Jisung’s voice cracked at the end due to not speaking for a while. 

“About what?” Minho turned to look at Jisung who jumped from moss patch to moss patch in a last-ditch effort to entertain himself. Minho had long since given up on trying to scold the younger about the possible dangers of slipping and falling. 

“The others. We just left them.” 

Minho shrugged. “It was either dying with them or living without them.” 

“Yeah, but,” Jisung trailed off and only continued after Minho made a questioning noise. “Maybe we could’ve fought them and won. Together.” 

After a quick second to mull over Jisung’s words, Minho opened his mouth to speak but Jisung plowed through, not giving Minho a chance.

“I mean my entire goal was to help them. They were _The Ones_. The people who were supposed to end my father’s tyrannical reign, but I couldn’t help them.” Jisung swung his hands around wildly as he articulated his frustrations. But after a second, Jisung stopped walking as his arms fell limp at his sides. “I can’t do anything right.”

Minho sighed heavily before stopping in front of Jisung. Running a hand through his hair, Minho met the eyes of the younger boy. “I don’t think they were the ones the prophecy was talking about.” 

Jisung’s eyes widened briefly before he squinted at Minho in a scrutinizing manner. “And how would you know? There were less than ten of them and one of them was a Descendent of Eunbyeol.” 

“Yes, but three of them died before anything happened.” Jisung winced at Minho’s blunt words. “They didn’t stop anyone. They didn’t contribute anything to end your father’s tyrannical reign,” Minho rolled his eyes as he quoted Jisung, “they died from wooden pallets, Jisung. I don’t think vaticinal heroes die from wooden pallets.” 

“I guess,” Jisung mumbled after an elongated silence. 

“Good, now let’s go. I want to get out of this forest.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They never did get out of the forest, but they did find the city. 

Well, more accurately, they found the rail tracks which led to the city. 

But they were now in the city so who really cares about how they found it? 

“Where is everyone?” Jisung whispered as they walked the abandoned streets. 

Minho could only shrug as he looked at the townhouses they walked past. There was absolutely no sign of life except for the occasional rat that ran between the trash cans. Even the air was stale as if the breeze itself abandoned the city. 

Even though there was nothing, Minho could still feel eyes watching his every movement, watching the two of them like the latest soap opera. 

“Is it just me or does it feel like we’re being watched?” Minho said under his breath. 

“Thought that was just me,” Jisung replied in the same quiet tone. 

The coble road eventually led the two of them to a large, circular plaza. Lamp posts stood erect along the perimeter of the plaza, connected with a long string of triangular banners. What once must’ve been bright and joyous colors were now faded due to long exposure to the sunlight. 

“I really don’t like this.” Jisung turned in a small circle, carefully observing their surroundings. 

“Yeah, I don-”

Minho’s words were cut short when something tugged on the back of Minho’s shirt collar, cutting off his sentence and his oxygen flow. Minho stumbled backward as he choked for air and was pulled into a dark alleyway before tossed against a brick wall. Soon after, Jisung followed, slammed into Minho, and knocked the remaining air out of his lungs.

Minho let out a strangled gasp as Jisung’s elbow connected with the wound and sent a fresh spike of sharp pain up Minho’s spine. 

“What are you doing here?” A feminine voice called out as the sound of a knife being unsheathed rang sharply through the air. 

A fresh wave of spring orange and faint mint fanned across Minho’s nose as Jisung backed into Minho instinctually. 

Tightening his grip on Jisung’s waist, Minho switched his position with Jisung. He locked eyes with the person before them and accepted the sharp prick of the knife at his neck. 

The person who stood tall in front of them was a lean woman who was easily past her prime. The hood of her cloak cast her face in a shadow but there was no mistaking the surprise written on her face when Minho had moved so fluidly. 

The intensity of her gaze sent a shiver down Minho's spine as her eyes bore into his. Her thin lips stretched into a line as her arm never wavered. 

“Who are you?” She hissed. An accent clung to her words as she spoke Korean but it was barely noticeable. 

Minho felt Jisung tense behind him but Minho didn’t let the woman faze him. 

“Why do you want to know?” Minho easily looked down at her.

The surprise disappeared from her face as her gaze sharpened. “I’m the one asking the questions,” she pushed the knife a little harder against Minho’s neck, drawing a small drop of blood. “I’m not the one with a knife at my neck.” 

Gritting his teeth, Minho clenched his hands into balls. He didn’t notice how tense he was until Jisung’s soft hand tugged at his left pinky. 

“We-”

“Meow.”

Minho tensed for a completely new reason as he whipped his head down to see a pitch-black cat rubbing itself against Minho’s right leg. Jisung’s grip on his pinky tightened.

“Petunia?” The woman gasped. Her gaze flicked to Minho’s before she lowered her arm slowly. 

The cat- Petunia- meowed again before it jumped onto the shoulder of the woman. The woman chuckled quietly as Petunia rested across her shoulder before it knocked the hood off her head with the flick of its tail. 

Minho heard Jisung gasp behind him as Minho’s own eyes widened. Faint and intricate white tattoos framed her face and disappeared down her neck only to reappear wherever her skin was exposed. They were barely noticeable under the sunlight, but Minho could make out faint geometric shapes. But what started Minho the most; however, was how the woman’s eyes glinted in the sun in a way that was too familiar. Emerald green met grey and black when the woman tore her attention away from her cat. 

Suddenly, Minho found himself tripping over his feet as Jisung shoved him to the side. 

The woman’s eyes resembled large gems as they widened once they landed on Jisung. 

A complicated emotion washed over Jisung as his breath hitched, eyes turning glassy, and red-rimmed.

“Jisung?” The woman gasped.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow. The minute progression of Minsung  
> Much amaze


	4. Atelophobia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Atelophobia: The fear of not being good enough
> 
> Minsung realizes they have to overcome mental challenges in order to move forward.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters, enjoy!!

Minho placed the teacup down with a soft clang as his other hand occupied itself within Petunia’s soft fur. The cat stretched itself over Minho’s thighs, purring lightly when Minho found the right spot to scratch.

The woman- Seohyun as she later introduced herself as- placed a plate of cookies in the center of the small wooden table. Minho really wanted one but he didn’t want to disturb the cat on his lap. 

Jisung’s gaze didn’t move away from his teacup as Seohyun sat across from them and took a small sip out of her own cup. 

Seohyun’s small home was littered with cats. The front door had directly opened to the kitchen and besides two doors, which presumably led to the bathroom and bedroom, no other room was a part of the house. Whatever space wasn’t taken up by essential appliances or bookshelves, scratching posts or other cat toys took up the remaining space. 

A small kitten the color of sand clawed at Seohyun’s cloak, which laid across the back of her chair. Like an itch below a thin layer of skin, Minho got an urge to pet the small creature, but he managed to pull himself together by reassuring himself that Petunia’s affection was enough for him. 

The faint scent of incense tickled Minho’s nose and threatened to make him sneeze. 

“Ahem,” Seohyun cleared her throat and drew Minho’s attention away from Petunia. “You two shouldn’t be here.” 

Jisung’s jaw twitched as the young boy clenched and unclenched his jaw. His hand tightened around the teacup and Seohyun stared at the cookies. 

“It’s dangerous here.” 

Minho rolled his eyes and made a flippant motion with the hand not scratching the space between Petunia’s ears. “It's dangerous everywhere.” 

Seohyun’s gaze snapped away from the cookies to give Minho a stern look. “It’s even more dangerous for him-” she gestured to Jisung with a tilt of her head, “-to be here.”

Leaning back in his chair, Minho fixed Seohyun with an indifferent look. “Doesn’t matter, I’m here to protect him.” 

Seohyun scoffed and poured a splash of brandy into her teacup. Intrigued, Minho slid his cup over to silently ask for some. She looked at him under her long eyelashes before sighing and pouring some brandy into his cup. 

After taking a small sip, Minho choked down his gag and decided that the tea to brandy ratio was definitely off since the brandy overpowered the bitter tea. He took another sip anyway.

“Why’s it more dangerous for me?” Jisung spoke up for the first time since they got there. He continued to glare into his cup as if the dark liquid was going to tell him the answer to his question. 

“Well, you’re the Crowned Prince of Korea and the Akuma has already drawn a target on your back. And not to mention-” 

“How’d you know he’s the crowned prince?” 

Seohyun’s eyes widened fractionally as she realized her slip up. Her eyes flicked to Jisung then back to Minho as she licked her lips nervously. Her emerald eyes startled Minho due to how strikingly familiar they were to Jisung’s.

“And,” Minho continued, “You said his name back in the alley. How’d you know?” 

Seohyun’s gaze leveled with Jisung’s as heavy tension began to grow between them. A clock behind Minho ticked slowly, the only indicator that time had not stopped. 

She averted her gaze down to her cup before downing its contents in one fluid motion. She grimaced before she ran a tired hand down her face. 

“Jisung is my son.” 

It was no surprise, really. From her shiny eyes to her rounded cheeks and gentle nose, she and Jisung shared similar features. However, hearing the words left Minho breathless, the oxygen stolen straight from his lungs. 

A sharp inhale from Jisung was enough to tell Minho that the words stung him too. 

“Where have you been after all this time?” Minho's voice was quiet but bitterness laid distinctively behind his words. Anger seeped from him like the puff of steam from his teacup, “How long have you been hiding in China like a coward? Don't act as if you care about his safety when you left-” 

“That’s enough!” She slammed a fist down, startling both Jisung and Petunia, but Minho hardly blinked. “You don’t understand. He was going to kill me and if I took Jisung, he would’ve hunted us both down until he got his heir back. Don’t insult me when you don’t even know me.” 

“Jisung would know you if you never left.”

Seohyun’s nostrils flared as she turned her head around to glare Minho down. Minho held her gaze calmly and continued to scratch Petunia’s small head.

Minho felt a small tug on his sleeve as Seohyun took a second to recollect herself. Glancing down, Jisung’s slender fingers curled around the dark fabric. Jisung’s face did not expose his true feelings, his facial features rearranged carefully to form a neutral expression, but he could not hide his trembling hand.

Her voice shook as Seohyun continued after a sharp intake of air, seemingly deciding to ignore Minho’s blunt statement. “He wanted me gone because I was starting to become more vocal about his _activities_.” Her face soured as she recalled why she left all those years ago. “I fled to China because Kangsoo, your father, would not be able to search for me here. Although China and Korea have been allies for over a decade, China still doesn’t completely trust Korea. China would not approve of the King of Korea infiltrated their country to search for me. They didn’t have any proper or physical evidence that I was here so I was safe.” 

“What have you been doing here?” Jisung mumbled and tightened his hold on Minho’s sleeve.

Seohyun looked to have aged a few years within the time span of a couple of seconds. “I’ve been trying to plan a revolt against your father, but it’s been difficult since the Akuma started appearing.” 

“What exactly are the Akuma?” Minho asked.

Seohyun’s attention switched to Minho’s as she answered his question, Jisung visibly deflating once he was no longer the target of her intense gaze. “They’re a group protected by the Chinese and the Japanese. They both want Kangsoo to remain king since he’s easy to manipulate. They don’t know how impressionable Jisung is so they don’t want to take any chances before they can figure that out. That’s why they don’t want people like me to get in the way.” 

Jisung was back to tensing up as his mother mentioned him casually. 

“I mean it’s not like they could kill him even if they wanted to.” Seohyun paused to take a sip directly out of the brandy bottle, “It’s hard to kill a God.” 

“Wait what?” 

“Hold up.”

“What?” Seohyun’s eyes widened as the brandy bottle rested against her lips. “You didn’t know, Jisung?”

“N-no, I didn’t,” Jisung stuttered, his grip loosened from Minho’s sleeve.

Seohyun cursed as she rolled her eyes. “Of course that piece of shit didn’t tell you.” Taking a long swig from the bottle, Seohyun returned it to the table, the bottle significantly emptier. “Kangsoo is the God of War. He was cast to earth because he couldn’t control his anger, like the piece of shit he is, and was forced to rule over the Korean peninsula. His power has been dwindling over the years because no one really believes in him anymore. Which is totally justifiable.” Seohyun rolled her eyes again as if the information was old news. 

“Wouldn’t that make Jisung half-God?” Minho asked, eyes flicking between Jisung and Seohyun. 

Jisung’s eyes widened and Seohyun nodded. “Yes, he’s a demigod.”

“Impossible.” Minho scoffed, which drew both Jisung’s and Seohyun’s attention to him. “He’s so fucking useless.” 

Jisung’s jaw dropped as Seohyun hid a laugh behind her hand. 

“Excuse you!” Jisung’s face reddened. “I was the one who stitched you back up.”

“You’re the reason why I was stabbed in the first place, Jisung.” 

“You little-” 

“Enough, children.” Seohyun rolled her eyes as a snowy white cat jumped onto her lap. She began to pat the cat absentmindedly. 

Minho stuck his tongue out like the mature adult he was before he schooled his features and spoke up before Jisung had enough time to retort. “How do you kill a God then?” Minho asked.

Seohyun chuckled as if Minho had told a funny joke, the cat sent her what seemed like an irritated glare as it jostled on her lap. “Shouldn’t you know? You’re the Destined One, the Descendent of the Wise, and all that shit.” 

Something akin to irritation left Minho’s mouth bitter. How did people find out who he was so easily? The more people knew about him, the more dangerous they were.

“Why would that matter?” Jisung began, “We met a Descendant of Eunbyeol before we arrived here.” 

“Ah yes, Mina. She was a lovely child.” Seohyun drank more of the brandy from the bottle, “It’s a shame that the Akuma got to her.”

Frustration and pent up anger started to build inside of Minho as more questions were arising than answers. Minho hated being left in the dark and the fact that Minho had traveled thousands of miles away from his home just to find out that most of what he thought he knew wasn’t even correct made his blood boil. 

“Just answer the question.” Minho didn’t raise his voice but the anger was detectable under the fake layer of calm he projected. 

“Don’t get upset with me, boy.” Seohyun pointed a tattooed finger in his direction. “It’s not my fault you’re too slow to realize that you’re the one in the prophecy.” 

“What?” 

The words she carelessly uttered caused Minho’s world to shift on its axis. His blood ran cold as he struggled to process what she meant. There’s no way Minho was the prophetic hero every child grew up learning about in school. Minho wasn’t the savior people thought of. 

Minho was barely an adult. Someone with a fucked up past and an equally fucked up future. He killed for crumbs. He fucked people to get what he wanted. He hunted endangered species just because someone asked for their bones. 

Minho? The person who was going to hell because of his never-ending list of sins? Destined to end the tyrannical king’s reign? What a joke. 

After a long second, Minho laughed. “There’s no way.”

Seohyun stared at Minho with disbelief dancing across her face. Jisung watched the two of them with a worried expression. 

“How did you last this long without knowing about any of this.” Seohyun scoffed. “What did they teach you in school?” 

“I never finished school.” 

“Yes, but Jisung has.” Seohyun looked at her son, eyes turning soft by a fraction.

Jisung looked away and didn’t say anything. 

Seohyun sighed before Petunia jumped from Minho’s lap to the table. The nimble cat crossed the table to paw at Jisung’s hand, demanding attention. Gaze turning soft, Jisung gave in easily to the cat’s demands as Minho stared longingly at the feline. He missed the cat already.

“We can talk more tomorrow about what your next steps should be,” Seohyun spoke up after a beat of silence. “You both stink, so go take a bath.” Her nose crinkled. 

“I don’t do baths.” Minho resisted the urge to pout as Petunia appeared to enjoy Jisung’s presence more than his. The cat meowed loudly as Jisung scratched her ears, a small smile on his lips. 

“Well, you better do them soon because I don’t have a shower and there's no way you’re staying in my house smelling the way you do.” 

Minho hesitated but Seohyun seemed to have taken his silence as defeat. A smug grin tugged at the corner of her lips before she pointed to the door behind her. “There are spare clothes and towels under the sink.” 

Rising to his feet, Minho matched the intensity of Seohyun’s gaze, but it was becoming quickly apparent that he was losing. He especially knew he lost when he felt Jisung’s soft hand on his, tugging at his pointer finger and forcing him to look away. Breaking eye contact meant accepting defeat. 

“What?”

“Just go without a fight. A bath won’t hurt you,” Jisung murmured.

Minho rolled his eyes, momentarily forgetting about Jisung’s hand in his. “I’m not scared of a bath.” He scoffed.

“Oh really?” One of Jisung’s eyebrows arched prettily. “That’s great ‘cause you smell like shit.” 

“Oh, fuck you,” Minho hissed, yanking his hand away from Jisung and crossing his arms. “It’s not like you smell any better.”

A smug grin stretched across Jisung’s face as his lips curled around his next syllable, but Seohyun spoke up before he could.

“That’s enough, you two. You both stink, but Minho, you do especially.” 

An appalled scoff left Minho’s chapped lips as Jisung pushed him towards the bathroom with his foot. 

“Can’t believe I managed to talk to you two while you both smelled worse than cat diarrhea.” Minho heard Seohyun say exasperatedly as he closed the bathroom door behind him. “I live with seven cats, for heaven's sake, and I’ve never smelled anything worse than two sweaty, dirty, bleeding boys!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Jisung, grab the squirrel meat from the fridge for me,” Seohyun said from where she stood in front of the sink and washed some colorful vegetables. 

Jisung got up wordlessly from the floor, letting Anemone, the white cat, pull the toy mouse from his grasp. Opening the fridge, he was met with a large variety of jars with various substances floating inside. Pushing aside a carton and a jar with purple liquid and blue flowers, Jisung found a brown package with ‘squirrel’ written neatly across the front. 

For some reason, it felt like a betrayal when he handed Seohyun the package. 

Seohyun mumbled a quick thanks as she took the package and set the vegetables down on a cutting board. “Cut the daikon please?” 

Jisung found himself nodding wordlessly as he began to chop the white vegetable. Seohyun seemed to be more gentle and calm when she addressed Jisung, but the air surrounding them was thick with awkwardness. 

“Jisung,” she began after a short moment of silence. “I hope you don’t think I chose to leave you.” 

“I don’t remember you much,” Jisung shrugged. “So, it’s fine, I guess.” 

Seohyun looked pained as she prepared a pot of water. A spotted ginger and white cat watched her closely from atop the kitchen cabinet. 

Another spell of awkwardness fell over them as Jisung finished and bent down to pet Petunia who was busy looking for scraps to steal. 

Jisung tried his best to remain nonchalant, to act like everything was fine. And as someone who grew up in a tense environment created by his title as Crowned Prince alone, Jisung was very good at pretending that everything was okay.

But Jisung wasn’t okay. 

How could he be when he suddenly found his mother in the middle of a foreign country, looking years older but otherwise the same? The person who sang him lullabies and cleaned his scraped knees looked remarkably similar to the person before him, but they weren’t the same. Not really. 

The one person who was able to calm the raging storm that was his father. The one person who never placed Jisung on a glorified pedestal. The one person who Jisung felt treated him like an individual and not a miniature version of his father. 

She was also the one person who left when he needed her the most. 

But perhaps Jisung should be thankful for her disappearance. Because after all, Jisung wouldn’t be able to swallow his emotions and place a blank mask over his face so effortlessly if she didn’t leave.

“He doesn’t really talk much about you.” Petunia licked Jisung’s finger as he spoke with a quiet voice. “He mostly called you a witch and warned me not to be like you. I think I reminded him too much of you because he’s always looked at my forehead, not my eyes. Well, on the rare occasion that he decided to talk to me.” 

“Your father was right about one thing, I suppose.” Seohyun looked at Jisung, who crouched next to Petunia, now busy petting her belly. “I am a witch.”

Jisung found his eyebrows raised in surprise. “Really?” 

She nodded before drying her hands on a rag. “That’s how I knew about you and Minho. I didn’t realize that you two were coming today, but I knew you were going to appear soon.” 

Mouth forming a small ‘o,’ Seohyun chuckled quietly before her face turned stern and her hands found her waist. “What exactly happened between you and Minho, by the way?” 

“What?” Jisung tilted his head to the side. “What are you talking about?” 

“You two used to be so close. Now both of you are so awkward around each other.” 

They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries before Seohyun’s face slowly began to match the confused look on Jisung’s. 

“I met him a few days ago when he tried to murder me.” 

“What?” 

Petunia meowed loudly as she swatted Jisung’s hand, demanding more attention. 

“Forget what I said,” Seohyun rushed out as she turned quickly away and busied herself with cooking dinner. “Why don’t you check on Minho? I didn’t hear the bath run yet so maybe he decided to make a break for it.” 

Jisung groaned as his knees popped when he rose. He definitely wouldn’t be able to forget what she had just said, but the change of topic made it clear that she didn’t want to talk about it anymore. He can pry it out of her later, he decided. “I don’t understand why he doesn’t like baths.” 

“It probably has something to do with his cat side.” Seohyun laughed.

With a sigh, Jisung crossed the short distance to the bathroom, suddenly recalling how Minho was seasick throughout the whole boat trip to China. He probably has a problem with water. 

“Hey Minho,” an exasperated sigh left Jisung’s lips as he opened the door, but his breath was immediately stolen when Minho made eye contact with him. Jisung had been the receiver of Minho’s attention on multiple occasions, but Jisung always seemed to forget what it felt like when Minho’s mismatched eyes scrutinized him. “Oh my God.”

He felt like a small insignificant bug under a magnifying glass. 

“What?” A small pout tugged on Minho’s lower lip from where the older boy sat on the toilet. 

Minho’s tactical vest sat on top of the sink counter, folded into a neat pile. Leaning against the wall, Minho’s dual katanas shone in the soft sunlight. Only one of Minho’s arms was out of his shirt, the material bunched on his shoulder and below the opposite armpit, where his arm rested next to his wound. The bandages Jisung had wrapped around his torso provided a poor job at hiding Minho’s chiseled abdomen, which was marred by numerous scars. The camo cargo pants Minho wore rested low on his hips and allowed Jisung to see his defined adonis belt. 

Jisung prayed that his face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

“E-ever heard of locking the door?” Jisung choked out before he stepped back and slammed the door shut as he heard a faint ‘w-wait’ from Minho, but Jisung did not wait.

He leaned his head against the wooden door and Anemone purred behind him. 

“I’m going outside to the garden,” Seohyun said as she hid her laugh behind a cough. 

Jisung didn’t move from his position until the front door closed behind her. 

“Jisung?” 

Eyes snapping open, Jisung backed away from the door as if it insulted him. 

“Jisung, you there?” 

Oh right. Most people _respond_ when they’re addressed. 

“Yeah?” Jisung called back cautiously. 

“I, uh. I need help.” Minho’s voice was small and barely audible despite the thin door.

Not believing his ears, Jisung pressed his ear against the door. “Say that again?” Since when did Minho need help? Was this the same Minho who told Seohyun that Jisung was safe since Minho was with him?

“I said-” a cough, “I need help.” This time his voice was louder and Jisung definitely had heard right.

Taking a deep breath, Jisung steeled himself and opened the door. He was immediately met with wide mismatch eyes that made Jisung want to run away. “What’s up?” Smooth. Real smooth.

Minho looked at the tub as his face scrunched. “I can’t get my shirt off. It hurts.”

Oh right. Minho was stabbed. 

Because he was protecting Jisung.

Fuck.

Guilt simmered at the bottom of his stomach as Jisung approached Minho in two short strides. He wanted to apologize or maybe tell Minho that he was grateful, but instead, he said, “God, you’re such a fucking baby. Can’t even take your shirt off by yourself.” 

Minho rolled his eyes. “Just help me.”

Their close proximity allowed Jisung to realize just what Seohyun was talking about. Minho smelled like sweat, but also of snow-capped mountains and the clean air that only came from being thousands of miles away from the nearest city. He was an easy breeze after an arduous hike and the fresh morning dew on newly sprouted plants. And if Jisung concentrated hard enough, he could detect faint notes of rosewood, hidden by his sweat. 

Jisung didn’t say anything else before he avoided looking at Minho and blindly grabbed Minho’s shirt, pulling it off in one swift motion. He figured ripping it off quickly was better than a slow burn. 

Minho grunted but didn’t look too bad so Jisung assumed that he made the right choice. The hair at the back of Minho’s head stuck up and Jisung had to fight the urge to run his hand through Minho’s stygian black hair. 

“Is that all?” Jisung rested his hands at his hip. Even if Jisung didn’t want to look, he still caught glances of Mihno’s well-built body. Jisung blamed it on the fact that the bathroom was so small that there was nothing else to look at and not because he was curious. 

It wasn’t like Jisung was a stranger to attractive bodies, hell Chan and Changbin were practically married to the weights in the training ground. Jisung saw their bodies all the time and he wasn’t all fat and bones himself. But Minho-- Minho was something else entirely. 

Sure, he saw what Minho looked like when he bandaged him, but it was different now that the older boy wasn’t bleeding out and on the brink of death. 

“Can you take my boots off too?” 

Jisung watched as Minho’s shoulder muscles shifted when he slowly moved to stretch his abdomen, the large, pale scar in the middle of his chest warped as he did. 

Oh shit, Minho was talking to him. 

“Wa- oh, yeah. Yeah, I can do that.” Jisung snapped his eyes back up from where they trailed down Minho’s torso only to find that Minho was already staring at him. 

_Fuck my life._

Jisung crouched down to unlace Minho’s boots. It should’ve been an easy task, but the laces on Minho’s boots were a lot more complicated than it seemed and it left Jisung’s fingertips red and sore. After Jisung had miraculously managed to unlace both shoes, Jisung grabbed the left boot and tugged.

Only to be met with stubborn defeat. 

“Arrrrg,” Jisung gritted his teeth as he tugged the boot off, landing on his ass when the shoe finally came off. 

“You good?” Minho asked as Jisung got up to tug the other shoe off. 

Jisung nodded and pulled the other shoe off with ease. “Yeah, perfectly fine. You know, as you said a few days ago, I don’t have an ass so there’s nothing to bruise.” 

The tops of Minho’s ears rapidly began to turn a few shades red, but Jisung was too busy setting Minho’s boots aside to notice. 

Jisung met Minho’s gaze as he stood up again. This would probably be one of the only times Jisung had to look down to meet Minho's eyes. 

The sun shifted from the window behind Jisung and caused Minho to squint his eyes. The action; however, brought Jisung’s attention to the silver earring Minho wore when the jewelry glinted in the sunlight. 

Jisung had always found the earring intriguing. Characters were engraved onto the rectangular plate, but Jisung had never been in the proper position to read it. 

“What about your earring?” Jisung asked as he reached to touch the accessory. 

As if Jisung’s touch was poison, Minho jerked away, his eyes widened for a moment before scrunching closed in pain. 

“It’s fine,” He choked out, looking away quickly but Jisung saw the flash of vulnerability. “It won’t rust.”

Jisung let Minho’s odd behavior pass as his hand slowly fell to his side. “Alright then.” A moment of awkward silence passed before Jisung couldn’t stand it any longer. “Can you stand on your own?” 

Minho scoffed, a sign that normal Minho was back, before he pushed himself onto his feet. Jisung backed away quickly to give Minho enough space in the otherwise crowded bathroom before deciding to turn around and focus on the tub to save himself from seeing Minho’s bare chest. 

“Of course I can stand.” 

Jisung busied himself with turning the tub on instead of how the bathroom was too small to fit two grown boys. Minho’s chest occasionally brushed against Jisung’s back as he moved around the cramped space. 

“If I add bubbles to the tub will you stop complaining?” Jisung teased as he eyed a small bottle next to the shampoo. Seohyun probably wouldn’t mind. 

Jisung glanced behind himself in time to see Minho’s head tilt cutely to the side. 

“Bubbles? What bubbles?” 

Jisung’s mouth dropped, appalled that Minho didn’t know the luxuries of bubble baths. But that's probably why Minho didn’t know. It was a luxury. 

Clamping his mouth shut, Jisung mentally scolded himself for forgetting that crucial fact. 

_Not everyone is as privileged as you, Jisung._

“I think you’ll like it,” Jisung said as he reached for the bottle and poured a little too much into the warm water. The lavender scent of the solution evoked memories of Jisung’s early childhood when Seohyun was younger and when Jisung still called her mom. “And who knows, maybe you'll end up liking baths after all.” 

_Stop thinking, Jisung._

“I doubt anything will get me to like baths.” Minho scoffed, sending a puff of air to the exposed part of Jisung’s neck and effectively distracting Jisung from his thoughts.

“Are you sure?” A challenging grin pulled at the corners of Jisung’s lips as he turned around to see Minho’s eyes growing wide in fascination and Jisung couldn’t help but be silently thankful for Minho’s distraction even if the older boy didn’t know that he needed it. 

Jisung’s grin turned into a full-blown smug smirk as Minho slowly crept closer to the tub with childlike curiosity, seemingly entranced by the soap suds. Turning back around to turn the faucet off, Jisung was greeted with Minho unbuckling his belt, not caring that Jisung was right beside him. 

“Alright, I’ll leave you to it,” Jisung said mostly to himself as he quickly turned away before Minho’s pants hit the tiles. With quick short strides, Jisung quickly left the bathroom, his face hot and a little breathless. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


After Jisung helped Minho, Seohyun had walked back in with an assortment of flowers in her small hands. Jisung had asked what they were for and if she needed any help but she waved him away, uttering a few short words about having things to do before she walked back out the door. 

Jisung could only watch the door slam shut in his face, hand half raised. 

And now, roughly forty minutes had passed and nothing new happened much to Jisung’s chagrin.

He was sticky and gross from the long trek here and he wanted a bath but Minho was still hogging the bathroom.

_Stupid Minho and his stupid face._

_Stupidly handso-_

_Shut up, Jisung. Stop thinking._

“That’s it,” Jisung muttered under his breath as he moved Anemone off his lap and rose from his position on the floor. 

Crossing the small kitchen in four quick steps, Jisung swung the bathroom door open, prepared to yell at the older boy, but the words died in his throat. He could only stare silently, glued to the spot where he stood, as Minho played with the bubbles. The soap suds were everywhere; on his hair, on his nose and cheeks, and even on the floor outside of the tub. 

The sight sent Jisung’s mind reeling from how juxtaposing it was to what he was used to. Minho’s usual cold and closed off nature was drastically different from the boy in the tub, soft smile and pruney fingers. 

Bubbles tumbled in the air as Minho swatted the bubbles, a quiet giggle slipping past his full lips. Minho’s striking eyes suddenly widened as he noticed something in the far corner of the tub and reached forward with a slight wince. Minho grabbed what appeared to be a rubber ducky. 

Mystified, Minho held the rubber prey above his head to observe the object in the evening sunlight. Childlike wonder pulled his eyebrows close together before Minho gave the toy a small squeeze, jumping slightly at the shrill squeak.

Jisung couldn’t help himself any longer. 

He laughed, announcing his presence to the boy before him. Minho’s ears reddened at an alarming speed, but Jisung chose not to comment on it when Minho only returned his attention back to the rubber duck and gave it another tentative squeeze. 

“Why are you watching me?” Minho asked as he sunk further into the tub, the water rushing past his broad shoulders and around his neck. “Fucking creep.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes, “you’re taking too long. I wanna bathe too.”

“No.” Minho had the audacity to turn his head away like a petulant child. 

“Excuse me?” Jisung scoffed and approached the tub in one and a half strides. “Did you say no to me?”

“What’s wrong?” A challenging grin stretched across Minho’s face. “Not used to getting no as an answer, Princess?” 

The nickname evoked a strong sense of deja vu, especially when Minho glanced up at Jisung with a teasing look on his face. 

Schooling his face with a slight shake, Jisung banished that thought away for now. He can think about that later when Minho isn’t looking at him with that _look_ in his eyes. 

“You’re just being a jerk.” Jisung spat without any real anger before bending down to flick some of the soapy water in Minho’s face. 

Satisfaction washed over Jisung as Minho sputtered when soap got in his mouth. The joyous feeling was short-lived, however, when a murderous glint in Minho’s eyes appeared suddenly. 

“Wait,” Jisung swung his hands out in front of him as he backed away slowly, realizing his mistake. He didn’t have much room to move as he found his back against the sink. “We can talk this through!” 

Minho didn’t want to talk though. 

Jisung was met with a wave of water as Minho sent a tide towards Jisung and soaked his entire front with soapy water. Jisung’s brown locks flopped into his eyes as the water began to soak into Jisung’s socks and form a puddle around him. 

All traces of sympathy and pity Jisung had for the older boy completely washed away. Balling his hand into a fist, Jisung shot Minho a glare but the assassin only laughed mockingly. 

“You!” Jisung reached forward to swipe more water at Minho but the other boy moved too quickly, his reflexes faster than Jisung’s. 

Large, warm hands wrapped easily around Jisung’s thin wrists before he could retaliate. Their arms swung between them as Jisung struggled to shake Minho off. 

Minho grew cocky as quickly as frustration grew in Jisung. 

“Get. Your. Hands. Off. Me.” Jisung said through gritted teeth as he tugged away and almost managed to free his hands. His efforts; however, were quickly forgotten when Minho easily adjusted his grip and took both of Jisung’s wrists in one of his hands. 

“How’s that?” Minho arched an eyebrow and Jisung wanted nothing more than to wipe Minho’s smug grin off his stupidly handsome face. With his lips. Wait no-

“Now it’s ‘hand’ _,”_ Minho emphasized as his other hand splashed Jisung repeatedly. “Singular.”

Jisung would have been embarrassed if anyone else heard the undignified noise he made when he got a mouthful of soapy water, but Minho’s bright laugh was almost worth it. Almost. 

“Did you give up already, Princess?” Minho said smugly when Jisung remained silent. “Aw, are you pouting?”

A warm hand found its way to Jisung’s chin as Minho tilted Jisung’s head up to look him in the eyes. Minho; however, never got that chance before he was met with a spray of water as Jisung spat the soapy liquid back at Minho’s face. 

Surprised, Minho’s grip slackened slightly, but it was enough for Jisung to free a hand. Jisung had no shred of sympathy as he dug two fingers into Minho’s side, causing the older boy to jerk and bang the back of his head against the tub. 

“Gah- fuck!” 

“Hah! Fuck you, Lee Minho!” Jisung cheered as he scrambled away from Minho, glowing from his victory. 

Minho held his sides as he breathed slowly, eyes screwed shut and jaw clenching. 

“You have ten seconds to leave,” Minho said in a low tone.

Jisung rolled his eyes. “Don’t be bitter because I won.”

“Ten.” 

“You’re such a child, Minho.” 

“Nine.” Minho tilted his head slightly to peer at Jisung from under his wet fringe. Perhaps winning wasn’t all that important.

“Eight.” 

“You know what? I think Petunia’s calling me,” Jisung mumbled.

“Seven.”

Suddenly at a loss for any sort of sarcastic response, Jisung scrambled out of the bathroom as quickly as his wet socks allowed him to and slammed the door shut behind him. 

With sharp intakes of air, Jisung tried to calm his erratic heart as Petunia meowed from the top of a bookshelf. Then without a second to spare, Seohyun opened the front door, only to halt in her steps as she scanned Jisung from head to toe. 

“Did you bathe with your clothes on or something?” 

Jisung shook his head, still unable to find any words. 

“Well, stop standing there and grab a mop. You’re leaking all over my tiles!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung stared at the ceiling and counted the ticks from the clock beside him. 

It should’ve been easy to fall asleep. Even if the straw mat beneath him was thin and itchy, at least he had a full belly and a blanket. But Jisung’s mind was too chaotic for Jisung to sleep. Like an unscratchable itch, Jisung had a bad feeling about sleeping tonight. 

Jisung just knew that he would have a nightmare if he slept and he hated nightmares. He hated the feeling of impending doom that made your heart race uncomfortably in your chest. He hated how it was impossible to escape the nightmare as it quickly became your new reality. Jisung knew that he should sleep, but the sheer thought of it was enough to make Jisung sweat. 

Tilting his head to peer at Minho, the older boy laid on his own straw mat, back facing Jisung and with one hand under his pillow. Jisung saw Minho slip his knife under the pillow before they blew out the candle so Jisung could make an educated guess as to why the older boy had his hand under the pillow. 

Out of Seohyun’s seven cats, five of them lay near or on Minho. Petunia was barely recognizable in the dim moonlight and especially because she curled around herself behind Minho’s head, her black fur blending with Minho’s black hair. Anemone, the white cat, laid on top of Minho’s hip lazily while Lantanas, the spotted ginger and white cat, curled around the crown of Minho’s head. The two kittens, Primrose and Susan, nearly identical with their sandy fur except for the black patch on Susan’s head, tucked themselves into the small space between Minho’s chin and neck. 

After a few ticks of silence, Lantanas moved to rest on top of Minho’s head. Jisung held back a laugh as Minho grumbled something unintelligible under his breath. He reached up, large hand wrapping easily around the cat as Minho pulled her down to his chest instead, clutching her close. She meowed loudly but the sound of protest quickly became a purr of content as Minho slowly began to scratch the space between her ears.

The sight made Jisung a little jealous, but he figured if Minho could sleep then he could too. Sure, Jisung slept better when hugging something and maybe he wanted a cat to curl into him too, but some sleep was better than none, nightmare or not. He had a feeling that tomorrow was going to be a rough day.

Jisung focused on the faint smell of morning dew mixed with the clean air of the tallest mountain mixed with rosewood. A bit of lavender tickled his nose as sleep slowly pulled him under. Jisung’s eyes slipped closed as his breathing eventually slowed and sleep won the battle. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_“You can’t do that!”_

_A strained voice yelled. It sounded broken and defeated. Perhaps a hero had met their bitter end or a child who was learning the first steps in what ‘no’ meant._

_But it was strange, overall. The voice, after careful consideration, sounded like the same voice that often would sing Jisung to sleep when the night was too silent or when the rain was too loud or when he thought the tree shadows that fell into his room were monsters hiding, waiting for the right time to come alive and eat him whole as a child._

_He blinked his heavy eyelids open and tried to make sense of the silhouette scene in front of him. A woman and a man conversing. No- arguing._

_Jisung felt like he was floating. Or maybe he was falling. He couldn’t tell._

_“You can’t just- just exterminate an entire species because you feel inferior to them! Because you’re scared!”_

_The hurt-filled voice rang again and sliced through the thick fog around Jisung’s confused mind. The pain that attached to the voice was like a claw squeezing Jisung’s heart until it couldn’t beat properly. It made Jisung gasp for air that didn’t exist._

_He was confused but he knew one thing for certain; that voice didn’t deserve to sound that way. Pain had no right to cling to that voice like a parasite._

_The woman, Jisung barely made out, was smaller than the man yet she still challenged him, both with her voice and with the finger she repeatedly stabbed in the area right above his heart._

_The man, on the other hand, remained calm and collected. He stood straight and unwavering._

_“And you just can’t bring one of their children back as a souvenir! Or perhaps he’s a trophy in your eyes, or maybe even a pet! I wouldn’t be surprised because you’re cruel like that.”_

_Suddenly, the voice became distorted, as if Jisung was sinking deep underwater. Jisung had to strain his ears to hear the man speak._

_“They were going to try to overthrow me! That’s what the prophecy said!” This voice was deeper and tougher. A voice that sounded like the grumble of storm clouds rolling through a bright and sunny day. The calm and collected facade broke as he yelled back, sharp and unyielding, and Jisung wanted nothing else than to protect the gentle voice that belonged to the woman._

_The man raised his hand before he brought it across the woman’s face. The sharp slap rang clear through Jisung’s mind despite how the distortion filled his brain like cotton._

_”You and that stupid prophecy.” The woman was starting to sob as she clutched her cheek._

_The sound sent a sharp pang to Jisung’s heart as he watched her slowly sink to her knees. The man before her only glanced down at her, fire dancing in his eyes unsympathetically._

_The voices were harder to understand now. His ears rang loudly, which forced Jisung to concentrate to the best of his ability to be able to understand._

_“You’re obsessed with it. Do you hear me? Obsessed! What about me or your son? Do you care for Jis-”_

_“Hey.”_

_Jisung snapped his head away from the scene unfolding before him when a staticky voice grumbled in Jisung’s ear. The ringing thankfully stopped but so did the scene with the woman and the man._

_Jisung blinked his eyes as he realized who- or what more accurately- had spoken to him. A butterfly the color of the rising sun fluttered past him. When Jisung opened his mouth to question if the butterfly was the one who spoke, no sound came out. Instead, bubbles of air escaped from between his lips as if he was deep in a bottomless ocean._

_“You should wake up before you forget how to.” A humanesque mouth suddenly stretched across the butterfly’s face before curling up to form a smirk._

_Jisung stared as his body began to tremble, eyes wide and mouth dry._

_“Goodbye, Jisung.”_

  
  
  
  


Jisung woke up with a start and gasped for air as he clung to the blanket like a lifeline to reality. Sweat clung to his hairline as he struggled to take in as much air as he could. 

His body felt heavy as if not used to the weight of gravity. 

“You okay there?” 

Snapping his head fast enough to give himself whiplash, Minho stared at him with mixed emotions swimming in his eyes. 

“What? Oh, no. I mean- yeah. Yeah, I’m okay.” 

Minho looked at him weirdly but didn’t say anything else and Jisung could only be glad that the assassin had decided to drop the topic. 

Jisung’s limbs resembled jello as he stood up and went to get ready for the day. He definitely did not sleep well, but he felt more energized than he had in a long time. Perhaps he was on an adrenaline high. 

The door to Seohyun’s bedroom creaked open and Seohyun walked into the small kitchen wearing a long black dress and dainty gold jewelry. 

“You’re already awake?” She scanned Minho and Jisung briefly before nodding. “Adequate.” 

Without realizing it, Jisung released a breath he was holding. Relief washed over him as if he passed a quiz he forgot about. 

“Hurry up and eat,” Seohyun said as Minho pushed the table back into place once Jisung had put the straw mats and extra blankets away. She placed a bowl of fruits on the table along with some bread. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

They gathered at the table, in the same position as the night before when Seohyun began to explain. 

Minho peeled a mango and offered a slice to Jisung who shook his head, not feeling hungry that morning. 

“Obviously the end goal is to kill Kangsoo,” Seohyun began. “But how Minho does it is the question. The prophecy is vague so there’s not much we can go off of.” 

“What if I don’t want to be the prophetic hero?” Minho asked as he wiped his fingers clean. 

Seohyun cast him a look as if to say ‘it's too early to deal with your bullshit,’ before sighing. She spoke slowly as if they were children. “Minho, the prophecy is set in stone, it’s only a matter of time. What the prophecy says will happen. It’s your destiny.”

“That’s bullshit,” Minho spat, anger flashed like lightning in his mismatched eyes. 

Jisung couldn’t help but be confused. What’s so bad about having your future planned out for you? It meant not having to worry about what’s right or wrong. They all knew that at the end of it all, and if Minho succeeded, of course, Kangsoo would be gone for good. Countless people would be doing better if Kangsoo's corrupt rule was put to an end.

“Prophecy this, prophecy that,” the bitterness in Minho’s voice grew with each word. “What if I want to do my own thing? Why do I have to listen to some stupid prophecy?”

“Don’t be so selfish,” Seohyun’s words were sharp and bitter. “There are many people who would benefit from his death.” 

Minho gritted his teeth and clenched his fists until his knuckles were stretched thin and white. Jisung found himself reaching for his hand but stopped once he realized what he was doing. 

Minho wouldn’t appreciate the touch. 

“Minho,” Jisung tried, voice calm. The air around them crackled with tension and Jisung was scared that he’d suffocate in it. “Think about Hyunjin and Felix. Seungmin and Jeongin” 

Minho’s head whipped around to look at Jisung so fast that Jisung was scared that the older boy would get whiplash. The thing that Jisung actually should be terrified of; however, was the angry look Minho was shooting him. 

“Don’t. Don’t say their names.” 

“Who are you talking about?” Seohyun, Jisung surmised, must like living in danger. She sat in her chair, poised and relaxed even with Minho shooting daggers with his eyes. 

“None of your business.” 

“Just think about it, Minho!” Jisung’s voice raised a few octaves when it seemed like Minho just wouldn’t get it. “Think about all the people who are in similar situations that you and Hyunjin and Felix were in. There are children on the streets, eating trash because they don’t have access to a healthy food supply. There are people committing heinous crimes just to live. People like you and Seungmin and Jeongin wouldn’t be forced to do dirty jobs just for some money.” 

Taking a second to breathe, Jisung continued when Minho only stared at the table with a guarded expression. “I- I can help prevent that, Minho. Trust me, when I’m king, people won’t have to worry about things like that anymore.” 

Jisung’s heart pounded rapidly in his chest and his blood rushed loudly in his ears. He must’ve said the right thing because Minho looked noticeably calmer as he mulled over Jisung’s words. 

“People wouldn’t have to suffer as you did.” 

Jisung could see something crack in Minho. Jisung could pinpoint the exact moment Minho’s face shifted just momentarily before reverting back as if nothing happened, but Jisung saw it nonetheless. 

“How do you know I suffered?” Minho scoffed but he must’ve realized how fragile he sounded because he cleared his throat to try again. “I enjoy what I do. You don’t know me, you don’t know what I’ve done.” 

He was right, Jisung doesn’t know him. He doesn’t know what Minho had gone through or what he had to endure. Not exactly, but he knew enough. 

Minho’s eyes were glassy as he tried to stare Jisung down but Jisung wasn’t scared of his gaze because it wasn’t one of anger, but fear. 

The day Minho had come into Jisung's life, the day he had Jisung pinned down and had spilled to Jisung about what he had been through, Minho had claimed that Jisung knew nothing about him- and he had been right. But now that they’ve traveled across a country together and almost died on multiple occasions, Jisung had seen glimpses of who Minho was under a heavily guarded wall. 

Minho, the person who would choose cats over people. 

The person who felt bad when Jisung cried and tried to comfort him even though he was absolutely terrible at it. 

The person who saved Jisung when he didn’t have to. Who was stabbed because of Jisung. 

The person who had been through hell and back and Jisung didn’t even know the beginning of it. 

But it was enough. Jisung knew enough for him to realize that Minho was absolutely lying when he said he enjoyed what he did. He was just trying to fool himself, Jisung realized. 

“You’re right,” Jisung said after a beat of heavy silence, resolve flowed through his body. He met Minho’s gaze with one fit for a king. “I don’t know you, but I sure as hell know that you are bullshitting no one but yourself right now.” 

“You have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about.” Minho seethed. “You don’t have any right to assume anything about me. You, Jisung, grew up with a silver spoon shoved so far up your ass that you still think your delusional ideas are going to work. Grow-”

“Minho.” Seohyun’s voice cut through Minho’s tangent easily like a sharp knife through warm butter. “Think about what you’re saying. Actually think,” she stated firmly when Minho opened his mouth to retort.

Much to Jisung’s surprise, the older boy actually did stop to consider what he was going to say. His eyebrows pulled together as he mulled over his thoughts, jaw tense as he clenched his teeth. The rising sun slowly started to fill the room as they waited for Minho. The light emphasized the multiple expressions that flashed across Minho's face, emotions so complicated that Jisung couldn’t decipher them. 

Seohyun watched Minho with a guarded expression, one that was carefully articulated as to not let anything slip past. She crossed her arms and seemed to be waiting for something. What Seohyun was waiting for, Jisung wasn't sure, but a deep-rooted sense of dread began to fill Jisung’s core when it seemed like too much time had passed.

Then, seemingly all at once, whatever cracked before completely shattered. Minho’s gaze hardened as resolve flooded his mismatched eyes. The sun, now filling the room with its warm rays entirely, shone in his eyes, making them gleam with something completely foreign to Jisung. 

It was odd how Jisung felt proud of the older boy. 

“Alright. I’ll do it.” 

The words, simple and plain, were like a remedy to an incurable poison. 

Jisung felt like he could fly when the dense tension around them shattered. Something akin to hope began to wash over Jisung for the first time. Perhaps, Jisung did not fail his goal. Not yet at least. 

“Good.” Seohyun cracked a smile as Jisung felt a grin stretch across his face. 

Minho looked warily between Jisung and Seohyun before his lips pulled into a small, uncertain grimace. Close enough. 

“I think the solution is simple really,” Seohyun said as she sipped her morning coffee but not without spiking it with some brandy. This time; however, Minho didn’t ask for any. He must’ve learned his lesson. “Just transform into your tiger form and boom. The king is dead.” 

“I would, the only problem is that I can’t.” 

“What do you mean you can’t?” Seohyun scoffed into her mug. As if it was a reflex, Jisung shot them both wary glances, just in case he needed to placate the situation. “Shouldn’t it be second nature to you?”

“I haven’t transformed successfully for over a decade.” 

Minho’s face scrunched up as if he tasted something sour and unpleasant. He tensed as if he could block Seohyun’s piercing and judgmental look physically.

Minho’s eyes fluttered shut momentarily, long eyelashes caught the sunlight before he inhaled sharply. A second passed before the same breath escaped his full lips through the form of an exhale, a winter breeze. Eyes opening, Minho met her fiery gaze with a cool look. He managed to recollect himself with a single breath.

Seohyun stared into his eyes as if trying to decipher what exactly made him tick. What made Minho work. 

And perhaps, Jisung realized, that was exactly what she was doing. 

Her eyes flicked momentarily to Minho’s ear before something clicked in her gaze, emerald eyes hardening to match Minho’s metallic irises. 

She snapped her lithe fingers as her eyes sparkled. “Ah, I get it! You’re traumatized!” 

Minho balked as Jisung choked on the bread he was eating. 

“Wha-what?” 

“Seohyun-ssi!” Jisung managed to say as he miraculously swallowed the dry bread. “You can’t just say that!” 

“I’m just being honest.” Seohyun had the audacity to look offended. “We don’t have time to sugar coat things.” 

“Yes, but it wouldn’t kill you to be a little gentle.” 

“She’s right, though,” Minho said through gritted teeth as if admitting that she was right physically pained him. He ran a calloused hand through his hair and the dark circles under his eyes were suddenly much more noticeable in the morning sun.

“She’s right,” Minho repeated, his voice was uncharacteristically small. “It’s a mental block.” 

Seohyun nodded, her gaze a fraction softer as if taking Jisung’s words into consideration. 

“I just need to break through it,” Minho began and Seohyun watched him carefully, something akin to proudness glimmered beneath the surface of her guarded expression. “Easy enough.” 

“Right,” Seohyun said with a giddy smile. “Easy.” 

Jisung looked between Minho and Seohyun apprehensively. “I don’t think it’s going to be easy.” Jisung knew absolutely nothing about magic, he never had the knack for that sort of thing, but he could clearly tell that they were taking this too lightly. 

“Oh shush,” Seohyun rolled her eyes. “There’s nothing easy about this whole thing, but it'll be fine in the end.” 

Jisung wasn’t convinced and Minho didn’t bother to contemplate Jisung's concerns. 

“What do I have to do to overcome this?” Minho’s voice was solid, harder than obsidian, and did not reveal his true emotions, but Jisung had realized through the little time that they’ve spent together, that Minho was a master of hiding, of pretending. So although Minho’s voice did nothing to betray his innermost feelings and no matter how Minho fooled Seohyun with the faux resolve in his voice, Jisung could see how his pupils shook. How Minho gripped his knees under the table, knuckles thin and white, nails digging into his flesh. Most of all, Jisung could see that Minho was scared.

“I think the easiest way to address your problem is by going to the place where this all started.” Seohyun’s gaze hardened as she turned to look at Minho, sympathetic but unyielding. “Minho, it’s time for you to go home.”

“Home?” Jisung questioned aloud. Back to Korea?

Minho’s breath hitched slightly before he nodded. “If that’s what it takes, I’ll do it.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Are you sure this is going to work?” Minho’s face scrunched up in confusion, a mirrored image was most likely also on Jisung’s face as they both stood in front of Seohyun’s wardrobe. 

She scoffed as if offended. “Of course. I didn’t spend the whole morning collecting the materials for this if I wasn’t sure.” 

Jisung and Minho shared a brief look, one conveying _your mom is nuts_ and another saying _we have no other choice_ before they both met Seohyun’s annoyed expression. 

“Now hand it over.” Seohyun held out a hand towards Minho, her fingers thin and boney, weathered from years of garden work. 

Minho looked as if he’d rather swim to Korea himself before he reached to his left ear and unhooked the earring. The metal glimmered in the afternoon light, the engraved characters briefly notable for a second.

Minho hesitated, body tense and hand slightly shaking. Seohyun rolled her eyes. “Come on, boy. I need something with a close relation to the location for it to work.” A ghost of an exhale left Minho’s chapped lips before it fell into Seohyun’s outstretched hand. 

“Good boy,” she chirped before turning around to start her work. Jisung held back a laugh as he watched Minho’s face scrunch up distastefully at the praise.

Seohyun busied herself with her task; she muddled different herbs and flowers before she then added them to a glass flask. Her eyes fell shut when she held the earring to her rogue covered lips, so close in fact that when she began to mumble some incomprehensible words, her lips brushed over the smooth metal. Her eyes opened, a new resolve glinted in her irises before she slipped it into the flask as well. 

A sound, one that was the bastard child of a gasp and a shout, crawled out of Minho’s throat, his eyes alarmed and mouth agape when the earring met the liquid in the flask with a slight sizzle. But before he could formulate a true sentence, Seohyun held up a hand as if to pause the assassin. 

“Don’t fret,” she mumbled as she swirled the flask. It was fascinating how the color suddenly shifted like how the clouds before a storm would take over a clear sky. “You’ll get it back.”

Minho did not look convinced, but he held his tongue.

Turning around to face the two of them, Seohyun held the glass flask up for them to see properly, a proud smile stretched across her face. The flask was now a murky purple color with a magenta hue to it when the liquid caught the sunlight. Jisung could see small chunks of the herbs floating through the liquid when Seohyun shook the flask slightly but he couldn’t see the earring. 

Minho looked slightly nauseous. 

“Where’d the earring go?” Jisung found himself asking for Minho.

Seohyun tsked, lips downturned in irritation. “It dissolved in the acid.”

“It WHAT?” Minho’s eyes widened as his voice raised a few octaves. If Minho looked slightly green before, he definitely was green now. 

“I told you you’ll get it back. Why don’t you trust me?” Seohyun’s eyes flashed in anger, but Minho either didn’t care or didn’t see since he opened his mouth to retort. 

“You know we do!” Jisung found himself saying, quickly clamping a hand over Minho’s mouth. The older boy’s breath was warm against his palms and it tickled the soft flesh. 

“You better.” Seohyun sent them each a glare before she gestured to her bed. “Now go lay down, otherwise your trip will be a lot more uncomfortable than it'll need to be.” 

With an annoyed grumble from Minho, they both moved to the bed. It was slightly larger than a twin-sized bed, but it definitely was not large enough for two grown boys. They didn’t complain though, especially not when Seohyun was clearly already irritated at them. It was all Minho’s fault. 

She handed the flask to Minho first and Jisung watched the older boy take it with a cautious hand. Minho eyed the fluid before Seohyun smacked the back of his head.

“Just drink it! It’s only one sip and it’s not going to hurt.” 

“Fine,” Minho muttered before he took a gulp. 

“That badly.” Jisung heard Seohyun mumble before Minho started to cough uncontrollably, clutching his throat as if it burned.

“God, that’s terrible.” Minho scrunched his nose distastefully before handing the flask to Jisung. 

“Oh, that’s just lovely.” Jisung laughed humorlessly. 

“He’s overreacting. Just drink it, Jisung.” 

Jisung sent her an irritated side glance before bracing himself. In one fluid motion, Jisung swallowed a mouthful as quickly as he could in order to taste it for as little time as possible. 

As it turned out, it didn’t matter because Jisung could feel the liquid travel down his throat as if it was molten lava. It burned a trail and left Jisung gasping for air. He grabbed desperately at his throat in a pathetic attempt to relieve the slow burn that dripped down his esophagus. 

Then, just as quickly as it came, it disappeared only to leave Jisung with heavy eyelids and a heavy body. 

“Wha-” Jisung only realized belatedly that he had spoken, his mind was as lethargic as he felt. 

Through a blurry vision, Jisung could barely make out Seohyun’s slender frame as she moved in front of him to slide the flask out of his grasp and set it aside. 

“Don’t fight it. Sleep.” 

After blinking, once, twice, Jisung realized that he was lying down. A soft blanket tucked under his chin and a fluffy pillow beneath his head. He turned to the best of his ability to find Minho already passed out. 

_If Minho can sleep then I suppose I can too._

The last thing Jisung thought of when his cotton-filled brain turned off, was the scent of morning dew on new leaves and the crisp air of snow-capped mountains mixed with rosewood. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“What the-”

Jisung woke up with a start. 

The fire lingered in his throat but it was a meager whisper of what it was moments before. He rubbed his eyes to get rid of the sleep that clung to his eyelids like dust before he looked around him. 

The shadow of a bedroom surrounded them, walls broken from negligence, and furniture overturned. The wind from outside brushed against Jisung’s face and drew his attention to the large hole in the wall. A wardrobe laid on its front and rested next to the hole, termite ridden and mold encrusted. 

The air around him smelled of old ruin yet had notes of clean spring air, newly budding flowers, and crisp air that can only be enjoyed when you’re high above the sea. 

“God, my back hurts.” 

Jisung’s heart jumped to his throat when Minho’s groggy voice snatched his attention away from his surroundings. Minho rubbed his eyes with his hand as he laid at an awkward angle. His legs and upper body were supported by the broken bed frame; however, that left his lower back and butt to suspend in the air. 

Minho pushed himself off onto his feet and stretched out his back with a groan. His body responded by cracking in multiple areas. Jisung followed suit, only to realize that he was laying on the only unbroken area of the bed frame. That would explain why he wasn’t as sore as Minho. 

“Where are we?” Jisung croaked, throat dry. 

Clearing his own throat, Minho must’ve felt just as bad since his voice cracked at the beginning of his sentence. “We’re in my parent’s bedroom.” 

“What?” Muscles tightening and heart pounding in his ears, Jisung glanced at Minho’s face in an attempt to decipher the careful expression on Minho’s face. Minho; however, never gave anything away. Instead, he turned to face the hole in the wall and slipped through it easily. 

“I’m not going to burst into tears, so stop worrying. You look like you need to take a shit.” Minho’s neutral expression finally broke into a small, lopsided grin when Jisung made an undignified noise. 

His grin, Jisung realized, looked really nice on him. 

Another gust of wind rustled their clothes as Jisung stepped through the hole to stand next to Minho. He shielded his eyes from the setting sun as he straightened, tilting his head slightly to see Minho properly. 

To Jisung’s surprise, Minho looked calm and just a little vulnerable. But perhaps, Jisung shouldn’t be surprised. He was, after all, standing in the ruins of his childhood, face to face with reality as the crumbs of his home town littered the ground around him. This was the place where Minho must’ve felt the first rays of the sun on his skin and the first droplets of rain. The place where his parents must have taught him how to love and what it felt like to be loved back. 

Jisung’s train of thought, however, derailed when Minho blinked and suddenly his mismatched eyes hardened and his hands curled into fists. 

“Let’s go,” Minho muttered, shattering the weird atmosphere around them. 

“O-oh, right.” 

After casting one last look over his shoulder to quickly scan the ruined building, Jisung straightened himself to hurry after Minho, not wanting to be left behind. 

“So,” Jisung drawled, “what’s the plan?” 

“To get over this stupid mental block.” 

Minho suddenly took a sharp right turn and walked into the dense forest that surrounded the entire village. Goosebumps crawled along Jisung’s arms as the temperature dropped and a rough breeze billowed past. Obscure shadows danced along the forest floor, only to be broken when they passed through. 

They walked for a while, Minho leading the way and Jisung blindly following the other. The possible thought that Minho could be leading him to his death crossed Jisung’s mind, but it was quickly pushed away when Jisung realized that if the older boy really did want him gone, he could’ve killed Jisung ages ago.

“We’re here,” Minho said, breaking the delicate silence around them. 

Jisung looked up from his dirty boots to stare at the back of Minho’s head before looking around them. “Here where?” 

Just as Jisung uttered those words, Minho pushed aside a tree branch. Sunlight immediately flooded past the branch, momentarily blinding Jisung as his eyes slowly adjusted to the sudden exposure. 

Once Jisung could see again, his breath was stolen from the sight before him. They stood in front of a large clearing, which allowed the evening sun to warm their skin with its rays. The tall trees surrounding them framed the sun as if their branches were hands, gently guiding the setting sun to rest for the night. The sky, void of clouds, began to turn a warm shade of orange with streaks of pink cutting through. 

What really stole Jisung’s breath, however, was the magnificent field of flowers before them. The clearing was just a large patch of flowers, their petals the same color of the evening sky. They seemed like a bed for tired fairies or perhaps, a bed for two tired boys. 

“Wow,” Jisung’s words came out like an exhale, like they were never meant to be heard in the first place. “What is this place?” 

“This is the place my parents took me in order to learn how to change,” Minho murmured as if sensing Jisung’s bewilderment and didn’t want to snap him out of it. 

Jisung took a tentative step forward and entered the field as carefully as he could, desperate to maintain the beautiful state of the field. But at the same time, Jisung wanted to be surrounded by the beauty of the blossoms and forget about his problems even if it would be just for a fleeting moment. 

Minho didn’t stop him when Jisung passed the older boy, hand outstretched to feel the flowers between his slender fingers. 

“Of course,” Jisung heard Minho say, mere inches away from him. “There weren’t as many poppies before.” 

“What do you mean?” Jisung turned around to face Minho once he reached the center of the patch only to find himself face to face with Minho, close enough that Jisung could feel Minho’s exhale brush against his cheek. 

“Kids were brought here all the time to practice,” Minho explained, voice dropping to a mere whisper. Neither of them moved and neither broke eye contact. “Flowers can’t grow when the ground is constantly trampled by young kids.” 

“True,” Jisung said after a beat of silence, too wrapped up in counting Minho’s eyelashes to respond in due time. 

A strong gust of wind blew past them, sending the scent of blossoming flowers, crisp air, and rosewood to tickle Jisung’s nostrils. Their clothes whipped around them and messed up their hair as loose petals flew past them. Then just as quickly as it appeared, the wind subsided and left the two of them in the quiet aftermath. 

Jisung gulped when Minho’s eyes flicked down to his lips then back up to reconnect their eyes. 

“There are a few houses nearby. We can camp out there for the night.” 

Jisung had been told by Chan once that eyes were the windows to the soul because Chan loves cheesy shit like that. He had never really given the bullshit Chan sprouted any thought usually, but he couldn’t help but feel exposed with the way Minho stared into his eyes as if he knew every secret Jisung ever kept. 

“Sounds good,” Jisung whispered, but it felt loud in his ears. Minho’s eyes darted down, watching his lips move as he spoke before nodding.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung woke up to the smell of cooked meat. 

He got to his feet and only tripped twice before he eventually found where the smell was coming from. His tummy growled when the pleasant scent of meat wafted in his direction.

“What are you cooking?” Jisung asked, voice rough from just waking up. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes before he glanced in Minho’s direction. 

The older boy must’ve been awake for a while since his hair was neat and his eyes alert. He looked up from where he was cooking something over an open flame. “Rabbit.” His voice gravely from not speaking for some time. 

Jisung took the plate Minho offered when the older boy took the meat off the flame and cut it into pieces. It was plain but Jisung was just grateful that he had something warm to eat. 

“You know,” Jisung began after he swallowed the dry meat. “I’ve been thinking.”

“That’s a first.”

“Shut up.” Jisung tossed a rabbit bone in Minho’s direction, which the boy easily dodged. “Anyway, as I was saying, I think maybe you’re rushing into things too quickly.” 

Jisung watched Minho’s Adam’s apple bob for a brief second as the older boy swallowed his food. “What do you mean?” 

“I mean, what if you need to address the problem in a different way first? Maybe you need to get closure before you can transform successfully.” Jisung watched as Minho’s face soured and he prepared for Minho to shoot down his idea, but Jisung was instead met with a quiet ‘hmm’ as Minho actually took a second to consider what he had said. 

“You might be right,” Minho said in a small voice. “I don’t know what to do in order to find closure though.” 

Minho tugged at the weeds littering the ground before pulling it apart and letting the shreds fall through his fingers, only to repeat the process again. This was the first time Jisung really saw Minho confused, his eyebrows pinched close together and lower lip between his teeth. Jisung found himself wanting to reach out and free Minho’s lower lip, but he stopped himself before he could do anything stupid. 

“Maybe say goodbye to your parents? Like properly.” Minho’s eyes darted to Jisung’s face, his hands still in the weeds. “I- I mean like give them a proper burial or something.” Jisung stuttered, his voice broke at the end. 

Breaking eye contact, Minho glanced around them with a complicated expression across his face. He scanned over the ruins of the buildings that surrounded them, darting over the crumbles of old bricks, overtaken by moss and trees. 

Jisung watched him and the way he didn’t seem to buy what Jisung had said, but Jisung wasn’t surprised. Minho was someone who relied on instincts, act first then think later. But Jisung had always been one to stand back and observe, to control his anger in order for his thoughts to remain clear. 

When Jisung was younger, he was constantly left in the dark because people often assumed that young children don’t know any better. As an only child, he was constantly alone and as the Crowned Prince, making friends was a difficult task since the other children were either afraid of him or couldn’t talk to him in the first place. So Jisung had learned to step back and observe, watching instead of acting. 

Jisung had also learned, at a young age, how to deal with loss. 

“Yeah, maybe that’s what I need,” Minho mumbled to himself, a faraway look in his eyes. The look in his eyes only lasted a second before Minho blinked and it disappeared. “Let’s do that.”

And so, over the time span of an hour or two, they both went to work to make a wooden sign. The end product was underdeveloped and barely held together, but their hard work and sweat were poured into it. 

The longer Jisung looked at it, the more he realized that even the gentlest of winds would be able to knock it over. But Jisung also realized that it wasn’t how beautiful the sign turned out or if it would stand tall over the course of time, it was the process of making it.

The sweat on Minho’s tan skin glistened as he shifted away to admire their work, his pointer finger bandaged from when Jisung’s hand slipped and his knife nicked the side of Minho’s finger. The letters engraved onto the sign were lopsided and Jisung was pretty sure no one else would be able to read the crude lettering, but it was the thought that counted. 

Or maybe what really mattered was the gentle yet proud smile on Minho’s face, uneven and small, when they both took a step back to admire their handiwork. Maybe it was Jisung lightly patting Minho’s back as a small acknowledgment of his work and effort. 

If either of them was uncomfortable with their close proximity, shoulder brushing when one of them shifted, they didn’t show it. Jisung couldn’t read the careful expression on Minho’s face, couldn’t gauge the depth of it all, but he could tell that Minho at least felt a little better. 

“Let’s go,” Minho spoke first, breaking the comfortable silence. 

“Oh, right.” Jisung turned away from the small makeshift sign that stood erect between two large trees and the abundant wildflowers and followed the broad back in front of him. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Fuck!” 

Jisung didn’t recoil this time. He did the first few times Minho cursed but after a while, the initial shock died down. 

Minho turned away from Jisung, his hands fisting his hair before releasing the black strands all at once. His hair, unkempt and messy, no longer laid flat on his skull due to how many times he had run his long fingers through in frustration. 

“Why is it so goddamn hard to transform?” Minho spat while simultaneously spinning around to face Jisung, anger flashing in his mismatched irises. “It’s supposed to be second nature.” 

Jisung only managed to give him a small shrug, hands paused in the flowers when all at once, like a balloon with a small hole, Minho’s anger bled out of his body visibly. Minho deflated as he dropped to his knees then fell face down next to where Jisung sat. 

Sighing, Jisung finished his fifth flower crown and placed it on the back of Minho’s head. The flowers around them were crushed due to how many times Minho had flopped around dramatically when he couldn’t get his body to act the way he wanted to. 

The closest Minho had gotten was growing out his fangs and tail. On one separate occasion, he had managed to get his eyes to switch but he couldn’t do everything all at once. By now, the sun had almost completely slipped away and left them with a pink sunset. 

“Whatever,” Minho huffed to himself and sat up properly. The flower crown slipped from his head as he readjusted himself. “I’m fucking done.” 

Jisung opened his mouth to agree and suggested that they head back and find food before getting some shut-eye, but the frustration flickering behind Minho’s striking eyes left Jisung second-guessing his words. 

The look was familiar to Jisung because he had often seen it on his own face when he couldn’t get down the form when training with Changbin, not wanting to give up despite everything in his body screaming otherwise. 

Maybe they were more similar than Jisung thought initially. 

Jisung closed his mouth as Minho gnawed on his lower lip and plucked the crushed flowers below him. 

Seeing Minho like this, shoulders tense and pulled close as he struggled to overcome his challenges, didn’t sit right with Jisung. It didn’t look _right._

Suddenly and without thinking, Jisung stood up and walked over to the trees, looking for the right stick. 

“What are you doing?” Minho asked when Jisung found the stick he was looking for. 

The stick, now clutched between both of Jisung’s hands in front of his torso, was about four feet long. 

“Come at me,” Jisung braced himself once he was a few feet away from Minho. He steadied his gaze and evened his breathing. 

Minho scoffed before rising to his feet. “Do you even know how to fight?”

“Of course,” it was Jisung’s turn to scoff. “I’m the Crowned Prince, of course, I know how. Grab a stick, I’ll wait.” 

Minho shook his head no as he rolled out his shoulders, a playful yet challenging look glinted in his eyes. “That would just be unfair to you.” 

“Don’t underestimate me,” Jisung laughed humorlessly as Minho held his fists in front of him and readied himself. “Swords aren’t my preferred weapon, but they are a close second.” 

“Yeah?” They watched each other carefully as Minho spoke slowly. “Then what is your preferred weapon?” 

“Pistols,” Jisung answered. “But throwing knives works too.”

“Making the weapon do all the work, I see.” A small grin stretched across Minho’s handsome face. “That’s why you’re so thin.” Then he attacked.

Jisung didn’t have enough time to even blink before Minho was close enough to swing. Reacting purely on instincts, Jisung ducked in time to save his face from impact. The sheer force of Minho’s swing sent a gust of wind to rustle the hair on top of his head. It was clear that Minho wasn’t holding back, so Jisung decided to go all out too. 

Tightening his grip on the stick, Jisung thrust upward toward Minho’s head and rose as he did so to put more power into the attack. The attack never landed; however, since Minho pulled his right shoulder back just in time for the stick to pass his nose, mere inches away. 

Minho used his momentum to twist behind Jisung, swift and agile like a dancer. A second later, Jisung found himself tumbling forward when Minho kicked the small of his back. 

Rolling across the crushed flowers, Jisung rose quickly to swing the stick in a wide arc all while advancing forward. Minho dodged the swings easily, sidestepping or ducking below his attacks with grace and ease from someone who had years of experience. 

Jisung raised the stick over his head, sweat rolling down his neck as his hair stuck to his forehead. Minho’s chest rose and fell in quick succession as Jisung brought the stick down with more power and speed than before. 

Minho wasn’t the only one who had years of experience.

It must’ve caught Minho off-guard since the assassin’s eyes widened minutely and he barely managed to sidestep away. However, Minho wasn’t fast enough and Jisung managed to get a satisfying wack to Minho’s left shoulder. 

“Fuck,” Minho hissed as Jisung’s chest warmed with pride. “Didn’t expect you to get the first hit.” 

“See?” Jisung smirked as he flicked his fringe out of his eyes. “You shouldn’t underestimate me.” 

“Maybe,” Minho said as his expression suddenly hardened and Jisung’s heart nearly fell out of his ass.

One second, Jisung was a few feet away from Minho, his stick between the two of them. The next second, Jisung found himself on his back, wrists pinned beside his head and Minho hovered over him as his stick flew through the air and landed a few feet away. 

“Or maybe not,” Minho whispered, his breath tickled the shell of Jisung’s ear. 

Jisung could only stare wide-eyed once Minho pulled back with a mischievous grin and tightened his hold on Jisung’s wrists. Jisung’s heart hammered in his chest at an alarming speed as a chill ran down his spine. For some reason, Jisung wasn’t completely sure if it was because of their fight. 

“Take some time to rethink,” Jisung managed to say before he summoned all remaining strength to flip them over. He sat on Minho’s hips to pin the boy beneath himself then moved his hands to slide his fingers between Minho’s for an easier grip. 

“I don’t need to,” Minho said before easily switching their positions. Jisung found himself staring up into Minho’s mismatched eyes once again. 

“Fuck you,” Jisung hissed and tried to win dominance but Minho dropped his body on top of Jisung’s suddenly. The younger boy gasped when he found Minho chest to chest with him. “What the hell?” 

Jisung was close to whining as he thrashed around in a hopeless attempt at freeing himself. It was eerie how well Minho fit between his legs and how comfortable the extra weight was, but Jisung ignored that thought in favor of trying to find a way out. 

“Don’t fight it,” Minho moved his arms so that his forearms rested beside Jisung’s head. “You won’t win.” 

“You-” Jisung’s face soured as he struggled to find a comeback. It was hard to think especially when Minho was so close to him, smelling like fresh spring air and morning dew and rosewood, looking at him like he finally caught his prey and couldn’t wait to sink his teeth in Jisung’s soft flesh. 

His eyes shone in the last droplets of the evening light and allowed Jisung to see small details he had never noticed before. Like how his left eye wasn’t completely grey; little flecks of brown dotted around his pupil as if the grey didn’t have a chance to take over entirely. And his right eye, as it turns out, was not exactly black, but just an extremely dark shade of brown. 

Minho laughed, short and boyish yet light, before he rolled off Jisung completely. 

Jisung missed the weight already. 

They laid there, amidst the bed of crushed flowers, and watched as the sun disappeared completely to leave them staring at the stars, bright and juxtaposing against the inky night sky. The silence was comfortable and not awkward for once, which Jisung was thankful for. He liked not having to worry about entertaining Minho with pointless small talk and being able to just think for himself. 

Jisung was close to falling asleep before Minho suddenly spoke up and broke the silence. 

“My village,” Minho began with an even voice. Jisung turned his head to look over and was met with Minho’s profile as the older boy watched the night sky carefully. 

“The place where I grew up-” Minho clarified with a bitter expression. “Not this ruined mess- was a little mountain village surrounded by trees. I honestly have no idea how anyone could have found us. We were so hidden from everything, we never wandered far from home, and we never did anything to draw attention to ourselves. Yet when I was around eight years old, everything changed.”

Jisung swallowed hard. He knew where this was going. 

“Your father raided our village. It's not like we had anything special,” he choked out, remnants of emotion broke through his stony facade for once. Jisung turned his head away as if to give the older boy some privacy, and continued to look at the night sky like Minho. 

Perhaps Jisung was a coward. He knew that if he kept looking at Minho, he’d do something he’d regret. 

“He just wanted to exterminate my race. All because of some stupid prophecy.” His voice was a mere whisper. 

“All I know and all I remember was that my father was outside tending the garden while my mother and I cooked dinner. I remember the warm summer air that hung heavy around us, the sweat at the base of my skull, the calm orange glow that coated everything as the sun began to set. But what I remember most clearly was the shout of my father telling my mom to hide.” He laughed bitterly, humorlessly. 

“Or at least try to. He was cut off mid-sentence and I remember the gurgling sound my father made as he choked on his own blood. Believe me when I say that I know what that sounds like because I have caused many others to experience that too.” Minho didn’t look at Jisung and kept his gaze towards the heavens above, but Jisung understood. It must be hard to look him in the face especially when Jisung’s father was the reason behind Minho’s pain.

Mixed and complicated emotions clouded the older boy’s face when Jisung sneaked a quick glance. Guilt flooded Jisung’s veins when Minho took a shaky breath of air before he continued. Jisung had to clench his fists together in a terrible attempt at hiding his shaking hands. 

Jisung wanted nothing more than to pull the older boy to his chest and whisper comforting words all night, to tell Minho that he’s sorry and to promise that he’d be a better king. But Minho would never want that, would never allow him to, and Jisung would never do anything that the older boy didn’t want. 

Minho closed his eyes as he tilted his face to the moon, almost as if he was waiting for its blessing. Or maybe he was asking for its strength. “And- and I remember her screaming, my mom, she sounded so terrified. She screamed at me to hide so I did. I ran to the coat closet and sat in there. I was so afraid.” His voice cracked at the end and a few tears slipped past his closed eyelids. Minho shoved his palms into the sockets of his eyes as if to keep any unnecessary tears from falling. 

He sniffled as he rubbed his eyes before looking at Jisung with red-tinged eyes. “I heard everything.” 

_He’s breaking_.

The realization was like a punch to the gut, quick and pain-filled. Minho had worked so hard to build up so many walls and so many layers just to prevent himself from being hurt again, yet here he was, telling his childhood story to the prince of the kingdom that he must absolutely loathe. 

Guilt weighed heavily on the tip of Jisung’s tongue, preventing him from being able to say anything. He wanted to comfort him, wanted to apologize, wanted to rip the pain away from Minho, but he couldn’t. 

What right does Jisung have that would let him do so? He’s the fucking son of the monster who did this to Minho and Jisung would never be able to repent for those sins.

“I heard the death of my father, the rape and eventual murder of my mother; however, I didn’t hear the screams that left me when they eventually found me in that fucking tiny, cramped closet.” A small smile cracked across Minho’s face but it was bitter and filled with poison. “I know I screamed, I know I cried. My throat hurt, but maybe I wasn’t loud enough because no one came to my rescue. God never responded to my prayers.”

“That’s why you don’t believe.” Jisung found himself saying. 

Minho nodded. “Exactly.” 

Jisung’s throat tightened as Minho stared at him, eyes wide with vulnerability and trust. 

“You know, I saw both of them. I saw their dead, mutilated carcasses when they dragged me out.” Minho began after a beat of silence. “I saw my neighbor's decapitated head from where it was laying in the market square. The grass that used to be so green and well kept was marred by red. The ground was so bloody. So, so bloody.”

“And don’t even get me started on the smell,” Minho let out a humorless laugh. “It was horrendous. I could smell the death in the air and the freshly spilled blood. I couldn’t help but think ‘am I going to meet the same fate as my parents? As my whole village?’ The short answer is no. But for the longest time, I wish I did and sometimes I still do.” 

Jisung didn’t really know what to say. He could only stare back in horror. “And what happened after that?” Jisung’s voice was a mere whisper. 

“The soldiers sold me to a whore house.” Minho grimace, most likely at the new onslaught of painful memories, “for some quick cash or shit.” 

“They probably thought you were harmless and couldn’t be the one the prophecy was talking about.” 

Minho tore his eyes away and crossed his arms as a gentle breeze whisked by. He didn’t comment on what Jisung said. “The only good thing that came from that place was Hyunjin and Felix.” 

As if a hand had wrapped around Jisung’s lungs, Jisung found it hard to breathe. _Hyunjin and Felix? At a brothel?_ Jisung didn’t know them, hell he barely remembered what they looked like, but it was still fucked that they had to endure something like that.

“And Seungmin and Jeongin?”

A faux smile graced Minho’s lips as he recalled the memories. “They found me when I was on the streets begging for a job after Hyunjin and Felix and I escaped that wretched place. We were staying with an older lady and her youngest son but I couldn’t freeload off of her. That’s why I was so thankful when Seungmin and Jeongin offered me a position at that company. Killing for money was easy after everything I’ve been through.”

“I’m sorry.” That was all Jisung was able to say. “I’m sorry you had to go through that especially at that age.” The other words were lodged deep within his esophagus and Jisung couldn’t choke them out. 

Minho made a dismissive motion with his hand. “I was around sixteen when I was sold. I don’t remember what happened before.”

“Huh,” Jisung looked away from the older boy, “We’re kind of the same then.”

“What do you mean?” 

“I don’t remember some of my childhood either. From around seven to fifteen years.” Jisung could feel Minho’s gaze on him, “Around the same time frame as you.”

“Weird,” Minho said and crossed his arms over his chest.

“Wouldn’t it be funny if we knew each other in the past?” Jisung laughed but stopped when he noticed that Minho wasn’t. 

“I guess.”

Internally chastising himself for making it awkward, Jisung shrugged, the flowers below him shifting as he did, and changed the subject. “I- I really am sorry for what you went through.” He said after a second of silence. “Even though _I_ didn’t directly do it, I’m still sorry-”

“It doesn't really matter anymore,” Minho mumbled and interrupted Jisung, but Jisung didn’t feel any better, in fact, he felt worse. Minho’s past was the reason why he was in an immeasurable amount of pain now. And that pain was because of Jisung’s father. 

“I kind of hate my dad too,” Jisung said after a minute. Minho didn’t reply but he didn’t tell Jisung to shut the fuck up so Jisung took a shaky breath and started speaking before he could convince himself not to. “He was okay at first, but I guess it was worse behind closed doors because my mom- Seohyun- finally left one day and left me. That’s when it got worse.” 

“I think I remember reading something like that in the papers or something,” Minho murmured. “Her leaving, not what happened to you.”

Jisung nodded. “Yeah, it was pretty bad. _‘What kind of queen leaves her king?’_ One that had enough with a manipulative and abusive piece of shit. "Anyway, he started treating me less like a human being and more like a disposable chess piece. I won’t ever forgive him for what he did to Seohyun or me or the rest of the Korean citizens.”

A beat of silence passed before Minho spoke. “Seohyun, you don’t call her mom?” It was phrased as a question but said as a statement.

With a slight grimace, Jisung shook his head. “That’s kind of awkward. I love the woman who was there for me when I was learning how to tie my shoes. This Seohyun is a different person.”

Minho didn’t respond and Jisung didn’t know what else to say so he just left it at that. He stared at the stars above and made a wish for the pain to subside. 

The silence that blanketed them was heavy and stiff, uncomfortable like an unscratchable itch below the surface of his skin, but at the same time it was delicate and Jisung didn’t quite know what to say or do. 

“Hey look,” Minho muttered, breaking the silence. He raised a hand before extending his pointer finger to the sky above them. “It’s Capricorn.” 

“Really? Where?” Jisung tried to follow where Minho was pointing to, but it was hard to see since they were a few feet away from each other. 

Jisung heard some shuffling before he turned his head to find Minho mere millimeters away. His hair tickled Jisung’s eyelids when Jisung blinked in surprise. 

“There,” Minho said as he picked up Jisung’s delicate hand in his and pushed his fingers down until only his pointer remained. “Do you see it now? It’s right there.”

Swallowing the lump in his throat, Jisung tore his gaze away from Minho’s long lashes and instead to where Minho was pointing to. After a few seconds, Jisung’s heart leaped in his chest when he saw the constellation. 

“Yeah, yeah I see it.” Jisung found himself breathless and a little excited as a tiny smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “Show me another.” 

And so Minho did. Multiple times in fact. Each time Jisung found the one Minho pointed out, his heart would do a little flip and left him feeling like he could fly. Eventually, Jisung realized that Minho might’ve made up a few when one of them was named Third Eye, but Jisung didn’t have the heart to tell Minho that he was caught in his lie. 

Eventually, Minho ran out of “constellations” to point out so the two of them fell into a comfortable silence. It was so comfortable in fact, that Jisung began to nod off amongst the crushed flowers and flickering starlight. 

Jisung was snapped out of his half-sleep state when the warmth next to him was suddenly gone. 

“Where are you going?” Jisung asked groggily, looking up at Minho with half-closed eyelids. 

Minho stretched his arms above his head before turning around to look at Jisung. Jisung couldn’t see his face from where it was hidden in the shadows, but Minho’s voice was soft when he spoke. “I’m going to go clean up. There’s a waterfall nearby. Do you wanna come too?”  
  


Jisung stifled a yawn before he stood up as well. “Nah, I’m tired. I’ll go in the morning.” 

Minho shrugged before walking off in a new direction. Jisung watched until the older boy disappeared from view before he decided to head back on his own. 

Or so he tried. 

It didn’t take long for Jisung to realize he had no clue where he was going. Everything looked different from how it would in the daylight plus it didn’t help that Jisung couldn’t see in the first place. All the trees looked the same and nothing distinguishable stood out. 

“Fuck!” Jisung hissed as he ran his hands through his brown hair. It was official: he was lost. 

Jisung spun in a circle in a desperate attempt to find anything that would tell him where he was, but all that did was make him more disoriented. 

_Wait, where did I just come from?_

Perhaps getting lost was inevitable since Jisung had been blindly following Minho and never took the initiative to remember the way. 

“Whatever, I’ll be fine,” Jisung mumbled as he wrapped his arms around himself. “I’ll find my way back eventually.” 

Jisung began walking again with only the sounds of crunching leaves and faux hope to keep him company. It seemed to be getting darker with each step he took and the breeze that had ruffled his hair earlier was now suddenly gone. It was as if the world around Jisung was at a standstill. 

Sweat collected at his temple as his heart sped up. The hairs on his arm prickled and a chill ran down his spine. Jisung questioned his sanity. 

“Everything will be okay,” Jisung whispered to himself as he pulled his arms tighter around himself and sent a quick look around. He felt like someone was watching his every move as if he was prey that wandered too far from home. 

“You’ll be fine, you’ll be fine.” Jisung started to chant under his breath like a dead man’s mantra. “Your mind is playing tricks on you and- shit!” 

Something in the peripheral of Jisung’s vision had moved but it was gone just as quickly as it came. Then rustling from the other side caused Jisung to spin around quickly to catch whoever was stalking him. 

“I’m not afraid of you!” Jisung yelled into the shadows as he frantically pat down his pockets to find his knife only to be met with nothing. Fuck, he left his knife back at the campsite since Minho had reassured him that nothing dangerous lived in the woods. Why did Jisung listen to him? Minho’s definition of dangerous was probably different from his. 

Eyes darting around, Jisung began to slowly back away from where he heard the rustling in case the creature was still there. Jisung took a shaky breath in before the air lodged itself in his throat when something cold and wet hit the small of his back. 

Turning around as slowly as he could, Jisung froze when he was face to face with the cold eyes. 

The creature was nearly unnoticeable as it was hidden in the dense foliage of the shrubbery. Jisung's heart resembled a wild bird trapped in a cage due to the way the organ frantically pounded in his chest. 

_What the-_

Jisung took a tentative step back, but with every step he took, the creature moved too. Eventually, the creature revealed itself and the leaves rustled around them mockingly.

“Um, hi kitty?” Jisung cracked a smile but it was too late. 

A growl rumbled in the tiger’s throat before it opened its mouth to reveal clean, sharp teeth. 

_This is it. This is how I’m going to die. I’m going to be eaten alive._

Jisung clenched his eyes shut, determined not to see his inevitable death, but instead of pain and suffering, he was met with a rough and slimy texture across the span of his face. 

“What the fuck?” Jisung slowly opened one eye to see the tiger sit on its haunches, the force of the motion was enough to send clutters of leaves and twigs flying away. It tilted its head as if evaluating Jisung. “You’re not going to eat me?” 

The tiger snorted and Jisung couldn't help the pang of offense that shot through his heart. Was he not tasty enough? 

Then without any warning, the tiger started to glow. 

Jisung’s eyes widened as he scrambled back, alarm shot through his body as he watched the beast before him. 

First, the tiger began to glow seemingly from the inside before the light enveloped the whole creature in gold. Then after a few seconds of the blindly beautiful light, the light itself seemed to fracture and disperse into millions of particles. 

After the glowing golden dust disappeared, what remained was a boy with warm skin and pitch-black hair. 

“Minho?” Jisung gasped. 

The boy in question raised his head from where he sat on his ass. His bare ass. 

Heat erupted across Jisung’s face as he tried to glance away as fast as he could. Jisung tried to ignore the image of Minho, butt-naked, sitting before him but the sight was forever burned in his retinas. 

“I figured out how to transform,” Minho said as he suddenly stood and stretched. Jisung choked on his own spit.

“Yeah, I can see that.” 

“I nearly drowned in the waterfall.” Minho chuckled at himself. “I didn’t expect it to work.” 

“Well, I’m glad.” Jisung meant it even if his whole face felt like it was on fire. 

“Anyway,” Jisung could feel Minho’s eyes on him as he spoke nonchalantly. “Where were you going? Camp is that way.” 

Jisung kept his eyes at head level when he turned to look where Minho pointed, which was in the complete opposite direction. 

“I was taking the scenic route.” Jisung didn’t want to admit that he was lost. Especially not to Minho. 

“The scenic route?” Minho raised an eyebrow as a disbelieving smirk stretched across his face. “In the middle of the night?” 

“Yeah,” Jisung scoffed. “Night really makes you look at nature in a whole different perspective.” 

Minho laughed, eyes crinkling and mouth stretched wide. Suddenly, Jisung was blushing for a whole different reason. “Right. It really does.” 

“Ye-yeah.” 

“Well, if you’re done with admiring the view, let’s head back to camp.” 

Jisung found himself nodding despite the devil on his shoulder whispering that Minho was the view he was admiring. 

“Uh, what about your clothes? Aren’t you cold?” 

Minho turned to look over his shoulder and gave him a weird look. “Not really. My clothes are where we set up camp anyway.”

“Oh okay.” Jisung cursed whatever deity he could think of for making Jisung go through this. It was painful to walk behind Minho and make sure his gaze didn’t stray below his head, out of respect for Minho and for his own sanity. 

“So, what’s it like being a tiger?” Jisung found himself asking. 

Minho made a quiet noise as he thought before he gave Jisung his answer. “It’s weird. It’s hard to think clearly and I find myself doing something before I can stop myself.” 

“Is that why you licked me?” 

Minho sputtered before he answered. “Uh, yeah.” The back of his ears was a bright shade of pink. _Cute._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung woke up to Anemone licking his face. 

“Hey,” Jisung’s said, voice scratchy as he sat up to pet the white cat. His throat burned but it was now a familiar sensation. Looking over his shoulder, Minho rolled over while groaning. Guess the trip back wasn’t pleasant for him either. 

Blinking to clear the sleep from his eyes, Jisung scanned the room and immediately recoiled. The walls were stripped bare. From the potted plants hanging on the wall to the books on the bookshelves, everything was gone. 

“What happened?” Jisung asked no one in particular. 

As Minho sat up, the two of them made eye contact and shared a look of confusion before the door busted open to reveal Seohyun breathing heavily. In her hands, she held a baby blue blanket wrapped around various objects. 

“Oh lovely, you’re both right on time.” Seohyun closed the door behind her before gesturing hurriedly for the two of them to come closer. 

“What is it?” Jisung asked before she shoved the bundle into his arms. 

“You both need to leave right now,” Seohyun said as she pulled a flask from her pocket. It was significantly smaller than the flask she used before. “Here, drink this.” She uncorked the flask then shoved the glass container to Jisung’s lips and forced the liquid down. 

Jisung hissed as the murky liquid dripped down his throat in an all too familiar burn. It didn’t help that his throat still stung from before. 

“Minho, here’s your earring. See, I promised I’d give it back to you, right?” Seohyun was speaking a mile per minute as she handed Minho his earring. Minho didn’t have any time to question Seohyun or even thank her before she shoved the flask to his lips and forced it down his throat too. 

“I’ve infused it with magic,” Seohyun explained as Minho slipped the earring back onto his left ear while coughing. “Your clothes won’t disappear into a million pieces when you transform, isn’t that neat?” Seohyun laughed humorlessly. 

“Mo- Seohyun-ssi,” Jisung grabbed her shoulders to look her in her eyes. It startled Jisung how it seemed as if he was looking into his own two irises whenever he looked into her eyes, they were too similar. “What is going on?” 

Her eyes watered as her aged hands cupped Jisung’s cheeks gently. “You both need to leave. The Akuma found me and they know I’ve been helping you two.”

“Where are we going?” Jisung’s throat felt like it was closing up and his eyes prickled with tears. 

“Somewhere safer. There will be people to help you, they’re close friends of mine.” She wiped his tears away before tilting his head down to kiss his forehead. “I’ll see you both eventually, don’t worry.” 

Suddenly a loud bang echoed throughout the room when something or someone tried to enter through the front door. 

“Oh, they’re finally here.” She sighed before she reached for Minho to tug him down and give his forehead a kiss, much to Minho’s surprise. 

Jisung swayed on his feet as drowsiness began to weigh his eyelids down and he could tell that Minho was no better. 

“Alright, it’s time for you two to go.” Seohyun dropped her voice to a whisper as she opened the wardrobe behind them and shoved Minho in. “I’m sorry for everything.” She said to just Jisung before she shoved him in too and slammed the doors shut just as the attackers finally broke into the house. 

“You wanna fight?” Jisung heard Seohyun yell as he barely held onto consciousness. “Then come catch my fists!” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung’s mind was cotton-filled and his throat was sandpaper. 

He felt like death reincarnated. 

As he regained his consciousness, he could barely make out two voices arguing but everything went through one ear and out the other. Their words meshed together and only left Jisung with a headache if he tried to make something out of the gibberish. The only thing he could properly make out was the dry dust tickling his nose and the scent of morning dew on snow-capped mountains and rosewood. 

“Where the hell are we?” 

Jisung was suddenly wide awake when Minho’s breath fanned across his shoulder and his voice tickled his ear. 

“Why are you so close?” Jisung whisper-yelled as he tried to twist around to glare at Minho.

“We are stuck in a small space together, what’d you expect? And why are you yelling at me?” Minho whisper-yelled back.

“You’re too close and your breath stinks.” Jisung hissed and turned sharply to desperately create more space between them all while ignoring the heat in his face.

“Stop fucking moving,” Minho grabbed his arm in order to stop him but it only caused Jisung to jump and accidentally jam his elbow into the older boy. “Fuck, that was my spleen-”

Suddenly, Jisung found himself falling backward as the wooden surface he was leaning on turned out to be a door. Both of them tumbled out with a loud crash as Jisung’s back hit the floor and Minho fell on top of him. 

“Shit!” Jisung groaned as he tried to massage the back of his head and catch his breath after Minho crushed all the air out of his lungs. 

Minho groaned before he shifted to rest against his forearms, only to pause. Jisung could feel Minho tense above him. Finally cracking his eyelids open, Jisung turned to see what Minho was so tensed about. 

An elderly woman with greying hair in a bun and an adult male with sandy hair and a kind smile sat around a small wooden table as a child, who’s hair was the same as the man’s, sat on the sofa, her hands wrapped around a plushy. All three of them were staring at Jisung and Minho with mixed emotions. 

“Hi?” Jisung laughed nervously. 

“Granny?” Minho whispered. “Joshua?” 

Jisung’s eyebrows scrunched in confusion as it appeared that Minho knew these people and it only confused him more when the grandma and man both seemed to recognize Minho too. 

“Hey, Minho.” The male- Joshua- said with a small nod. 

The grandma smiled before opening her arms wide. “I’m glad you’re still alive, Minho.”

Like the sun breaching the sky for the first hour of the day, a smile cracked across Minho’s face and relief flooded his eyes. Minho scrambled to his feet, kneeing Jisung in the pancreas as he did so, and wrapped his arms around the old woman when he crossed the small hallway. 

“It’s good to see you,” she said as her thin arms wrapped securely around Minho’s broad frame.


	5. Festinate

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Festinate: a verb that means to hurry
> 
> Minho and Jisung find a solution to their problem and travel to yet another country.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter :(  
> Dunno why it's so short

“You know Seohyun-ssi?” Jisung’s mouth fell slightly agape as he stared at the older woman before him. 

“Of course.” She huffed, “who else taught her everything she knows?” 

Mrs. Hong, or as Minho called her, Granny, sipped her tea as Minho struggled to wrap his head around what he just discovered. A headache was growing in his head like a tumor. 

“So you’re telling me that both of you two knew that I was the one in the prophecy?” Minho cradled his head between his two hands. 

“Yes, that is correct.”

“Yup.”

“Yet, _neither_ of you had the decency to tell me?” Minho’s voice turned shrill as his question ended.

Granny sighed through her nose as she fixed Minho an irritated yet fond glare. “As I told you not even five minutes ago, there were precautions so we couldn’t tell you right away.” 

Minho sighed audibly and resisted the urge to pull his hair out. At this rate, Minho was going to prematurely grey. 

“Why doesn’t anyone tell me anything?” Minho groaned. 

Feeling a warm hand on his back, Minho turned to see Jisung patting his back, sympathetically. 

_Great. Now Jisung thinks I’m a loser._

“You weren’t ready,” Joshua explained and had the decency to look abashed. 

“We meet because you hired me to murder a guy!” Minho all but yelled. “How was I not ready?”

“Listen, we-”

“The reason why I left and never returned was because I was sure that Granny would be upset at me but now you’re telling me that not only did Granny know, but you were in cahoots with her this entire time?” Minho’s head throbbed as he struggled to wrap his head around the new information. Minho had met Joshua a few months back after he had hired Minho to assassinate a pedophilic politician, but Minho had no idea that Joshua was Granny’s youngest son. Maybe that was on Minho, though. Both of their surnames were Hong. 

“Joshua, Minho, that’s enough.” Granny held a hand out and immediately both Minho and Joshua held their tongue. Granny was the only person in the world that Minho would never want to get angry. “Minho, we had our reasons to keep this information from you. Please trust me.”

Her eyes, warm and honey brown, bore into his, and Minho found that his resolve had slipped away. 

“Fine,” Minho huffed and leaned back into his chair as he crossed his arms. 

“Thank you,” Granny sighed a breath of relief. “So Jisung,” She turned to the prince suddenly, which caused him to jump in his seat. “What’s in that bundle?”

Jisung’s eyes widened as if he suddenly remembered the baby blue blanket and gently began to unwrap it. “I don’t know.” 

Quickly, Jisung’s lithe hands unwrapped the blanket to reveal some food and medical supplies. But what really made Minho intrigued was not the loaves of bread or bandages. 

“Guns?” Jisung whispered, barely loud enough for Minho to hear. 

The others in the room were silent as Jisung picked up the two pistols carefully like they were made of glass. 

They were beautifully crafted, Minho admitted to himself. They were made of the blackest material Minho had ever seen, next to his own katanas of course, with intricate gold details. The embellishments and engravings that decorated the outside of the guns were only visible when Jisung tilted the weapons in astonishment; the details glimmered in the dim light. 

“Wow,” Jisung breathed to himself as he gripped the weapon and felt the weight in his hands. “They’re perfect.” 

A satisfied smile cracked across Granny’s face as she observed the young boy before her. “I see Seohyun hasn’t lost her touch. She always made the best weapons.” 

“Wanna test them out?” Joshua offered by tilting his head to the door. 

“Sure,” Jisung agreed easily. 

The five of them, including little Emily who clung to her father, exited the small home and walked to an apple tree at the corner of Joshua’s farm. 

Minho watched expectantly as Jisung closed his eyes and took a sharp breath. A second passed before Jisung’s eyelids fluttered open and a sharp glint resided in his emerald eyes. 

He exhaled before suddenly the gold details of his gun began to glow softly. If the sight bothered Jisung, the younger boy didn’t show it as he quickly aimed at the tree. A loud bang echoed around them and scared a flock of crows nearby. 

Jisung didn’t breathe before he raised his other hand and another bang sliced through the air. The pistols glowed gold and the excitement in Jisung’s grin grew.

Eventually, the loud bangs settled when Jisung lowered his guns and the sulfuric smell of gunpowder tickled Minho’s nostrils. 

“Wow, Seohyun doesn’t kid around. You can fire so many bullets before you have to reload them.” Minho heard Joshua say but he was too busy observing the apples to care.

The apples, Minho had just realized, weren't the target of Jisung’s bullets, but instead the small stems that attached the red fruit to the tree. Each of the apples Jisung shot were whole and perfectly intact. 

Minho pulled his attention away from the apples only to catch Granny looking at him with a raised eyebrow. She clearly noticed the precision as well. 

“Yeah, these are awesome.” Jisung breathed in amazement. He twirled the two guns around his pointer fingers before catching them with his fleshy palms. He attempted to put them into a holder by his side, but he quickly realized that he didn’t have anything to place the guns in. “Oh,” Jisung mumbled to himself as red dusted his cheeks and Emily laughed at him. 

Granny sighed fondly before she turned to watch the setting sun; a complex emotion pulled her lips into a frown. The sight settled uncomfortably in Minho’s stomach, but before he could say anything, Granny placed a practiced smile on her face and turned to face everyone. 

“Let’s get dinner ready.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho tried to help Granny with dinner, but that only resulted in profanities and the claim that he wasn’t doing anything right. When Minho had told her that there was no right or wrong in cooking, Granny had threatened Minho with a knife and told him to leave the kitchen.

So now, Minho watched the news on Joshua’s crummy TV as Jisung drew with Emily in the corner of the cramped living room. Joshua was out on his farm, collecting vegetables, and when Minho offered to help, the older male only gave him a weird look and shut the door in his face. 

“Woah!” Jisung exclaimed as he looked over to Emily’s paper. “You’re so talented.”

Emily giggled. “Yours isn’t too bad, Jisung-oppa, but mine definitely is better.”

Minho could see how Jisung’s bottom lip protruded as he pouted at Emily. “I’m trying my best.”

The front door opened and Minho turned to see Joshua walk back in with fresh fruits and vegetables in his arms. A gust of wind brought the scent of fertilizer to Minho’s sensitive nostrils and combined with the savory scent of Granny’s stew. 

“You’re finally back.” Granny greeted the male. “Let’s eat.”

They gathered around the small table and began to eat the food Granny made. The flavorful stew made Minho remember just how much he missed Granny after being away for so long. The woman, the one adult who genuinely cared for Minho, was someone Minho utterly respected and cared for. 

As Minho tried to eat his food, Minho knocked elbows with Jisung and nearly caused the younger to spill his water. 

An apology rested on the tip of his tongue, but the news on the TV caught Minho’s attention, and left the apology to die.

_“-King Kangsoo will be hosting a birthday celebration for his advisor and close friend, Seo Cheolmin. The King had said that his friend deserved-”_

Simultaneously, they all paused their motions and sent each other a wary glance. This was an opportunity, Minho realized as his cold gaze met Jisung’s warm eyes.   
  


Anxiety flooded Minho’s body as the realization settled into his brain and made his heart palpitate quickly within his rib cage. Minho knew that they were all thinking the same thing as he was if their cautious gazes were anything to go by. 

“He’s how old and they’re throwing a birthday party?” Emily snorted before she shoveled a spoonful of rice in her mouth. 

And just like that, the tension around them broke, although only for the moment. Minho knew that they’d have a long discussion once Emily went to sleep. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Clearly it’s the perfect opportunity,” Joshua was the first to say, “but it would be obvious.” 

“How will it be obvious? Unless they know that we are coming for them, it’ll be easy.” Minho leaned back in his chair and met Granny’s disappointed glare. “What?”

“That would be true if you didn’t go out of your way to try to murder his son,” Granny said gently, but there was something sharp under her words. 

Jisung jumped when Granny mentioned him, which had Minho concerned. 

“Hey, you can’t back out now,” Minho said to Jisung. Jisung lifted his gaze to meet Minho with an unwavering look.

“I‘m not.” Jisung rolled his eyes dismissively. “I think I have an idea.”

Joshua glanced at Jisung with a mixture of confusion and uncertainty. Minho could see how Joshua didn’t fully trust Jisung by the way he carefully watched the younger whenever they were in a close proximity and never left Emily alone with him. 

“You do?” Joshua asked. 

Jisung nodded, his brown locks bounced atop of his head. “My dad doesn’t know that I’ve been gone because we usually don’t talk unless it's absolutely necessary. We can sneak in and go to the party.” He gestured to Minho and himself. 

Granny hummed as she contemplated Jisung’s proposal before she slowly nodded. “That’s probably our best bet.” 

Minho voiced his agreement before they all looked at Joshua to get his opinion. The farmer only sighed after a brief silence then threw his hands up in surrender. “Alright. Fine with me.”

A smile stretched across Granny’s aging face before she slapped Joshua’s back with a surprising amount of strength for an old woman. “Great!” 

“Will he be able to do it, though?” Joshua said as he winced, “Kangsoo’s a god, afterall.” 

“If he changes shape then he’ll have more than enough power to do it.” Jisung glanced at Minho with his eyebrows pulled together. Minho could only look away with uncertainty, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to kill Kangsoo either. 

“How well can you control yourself when in your other form?” Granny asked after she sipped her tea. 

Minho felt as if he was caught in a lie when both Joshua and Granny looked at him expectantly. Like a pathetic fraud.

He was supposed to be their hero, their savior, yet he couldn’t control his other half. 

“I’m- uh- getting there.” Minho winced internally.

Joshua sighed as if disappointed but Granny only glared at him more intensely, causing Minho to sweat. Did he do something wrong? Who was he kidding, of course he was doing something wrong. 

“That’s fine,” Granny said finally. “There’s another way.”

Relief quickly flooded Minho’s lungs, but the feeling didn’t last long before the weight of her words finally settled. “What?” Minho suddenly found his heart slamming against his ribs at the prospect at another chance at this. Maybe he wasn’t as hopeless as he thought he was. 

“How?” Jisung asked, eagerness tinting his words. 

Minho turned to glance at the younger only to see fire burning behind his bright irises in anticipation. The sight left Minho’s mouth dry at the determination the younger boy had. If only he was a little bit more like Jisung.

“There’s a temple and if you pass their trial, it’s said that they’d grant you a blessing. I know someone there who would be able to help you two.” 

His throat dry, Minho tried desperately to swallow his saliva. “What do I have to do to pass their trial?” 

Granny only shrugged, much to Minho’s dismay. “It differs from person to person.” Her wise eyes found Minho’s, sending a chill down his spine. “I’ve heard of many tales of people not coming back after making it to the temple.” 

“It’ll be worth the risk.” 

The finality and assuredness Jisung held nearly gave Minho whiplash at how fast he turned his head to look at the younger. 

“How can you be so sure?” Joshua asked, eyes narrowing.

Jisung shrugged before turning to Minho despite answering Joshua’s question. “I don’t know if we can do this, but we have to try. Minho’s not the best at transforming just yet and we can’t risk it if he can’t master it in time.” 

Minho took a shaky breath in, smelling the sweet scent of oranges and fresh mint, before gritting his teeth. Jisung was right, Minho couldn’t control his other half well enough to rely on it. They needed a back up plan. 

“He’s right.” Minho breathed his agreement and was met with a grateful smile from Jisung. “That’s the best option that we have.”

Joshua sighed as Granny gave them a satisfied smile. 

“I’m glad you both agree. It certainly makes my job easier; I don’t have to convince you two.” She laughed while Joshua shot her a disbelieving scowl. 

“What will we do if Minho doesn’t return?” Joshua ran a tired hand through his hair. “What if this plan doesn’t work?”

Granny waved her hand through the air in a shooing motion. “If Minho can’t handle this then he certainly won’t be able to assassinate the King.” 

Minho gulped. He really can’t fuck up now. 

Jisung must’ve been able to tell how uncertain Minho was when the older suddenly felt a soft hand on his knee. After a quick glance down to confirm that yes, Jisung was the one who gave his knee a gentle, reassuring squeeze, Minho glanced back to see Jisung already looking back at him. 

“We’ll be okay, Minho,” Jisung said with such conviction that Minho found himself believing him. “This isn’t the first time we’d be facing something life-threatening and it certainly won’t be the last.” 

Cracking a small smile, Minho couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. He was supposed to be the strong one out of the two of them. “You’re right.” 

Giving his knee one last squeeze, Jisung retracted his hand and Minho found himself missing the contact, but he only gritted his teeth and forced himself to calm down. He shouldn't rely on Jisung to always be there to calm him down. He needed to be strong for Jisung, to repay the younger boy for the reassurance he had given him. 

“Well, then it’s settled.” Granny slapped the table and caused Minho to whip his head back to the older woman. She gave Minho a weird look but moved on before he could process what it could possibly mean. “You two will leave in the morning.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They didn’t leave in the morning. 

Everyone except Emily woke up bright and early, but Granny kept fussing over what they needed to bring which resulted in a delay for their departure.

“Granny,” Minho sighed as the older woman tried to find space in his tactical vest for another plum to fit. “I don’t need that plum.”

“Foolish boy!” Granny hissed as she slapped his arm. Minho recoiled instinctually at the surprising strength the older woman had. “You don’t know that. Plums have a lot of good medicinal properties.” 

“I am currently carrying five plums on me, Granny. I don’t need one more.” Minho tried to give her a reassuring smile, but it might’ve looked more like a grimace. “My vest still gets heavier even if the pockets can fit more than what it appears to hold and I can’t move well with a heavy vest.” 

Granny sighed dramatically, but eventually gave up. “If you find that you’re one plum short, it’s not my fault.” 

“Yes, of course.” Minho offered her a small smile and only a second later did Granny return the gesture. 

“Are you ready to go, Minho?” 

Minho turned toward the voice and immediately forgot how to breathe. His small smile slipped from his face. 

It wasn’t as if Jisung changed overnight, but for some reason, he looked different-- more powerful and self-assured. Maybe the confidence was the product of having a weapon other than a knife to protect himself or maybe it came from the knowledge that he was a very skilled marksman. 

The two pistols Jisung received from Seohyun rested against his ribs in leather shoulder holsters. Jisung had ditched his satchel and instead wore a tactical leg bag secured by a band wrapping around his thigh and waist. The new accessories made Minho realize just how defined Jisung’s body was; from his small waist and thick thighs, Minho was left with a dry mouth. 

It certainly didn’t help that Jisung’s shirt was partially unlaced and loose at the collar, which allowed Minho to see the younger's collarbones. The sleeves of his silky off-white shirt were unbuttoned and flowed in the wind when Jisung walked closer to Minho and eventually stopped in front of him. 

Minho didn’t bother to hide how his eyes dragged down Jisung’s figure and how he took his time to appreciate the way Jisung's black denim jeans hugged his legs. Minho shot his eyes back up from Jisung's dirty, black boots only to find Jisung’s face slightly tinted red. 

“Yeah, I’m good to go,” Minho said, somehow finding his voice in time. 

Jisung didn't do anything except avoid eye contact and nod briefly. 

“Since both of you are clearly ready,” Granny spoke up, a hint of amusement leaking into her voice, “then drink up.” 

She gave both of them a teacup with various particles floating in the murky orange liquid. Minho and Jisung shared a tired look before they realized that it was the same potion Seohyun forced them to drink before. 

“Hurry up now,” Granny said impatiently. “We’ve wasted enough time as it is, we don’t have time to dilly-dally.” 

Minho resisted the urge to roll his eyes and remind the old lady that the reason why they wasted time was because of her. 

Meeting Jisung’s eyes, a mutual look of understanding passed between the two of them before they simultaneously gulped the liquid down. It burned as it slowly made its way down his esophagus but the sensation was now only a faint reminder of what he had ingested. It didn’t take long before Minho’s eyelids felt heavy and he began to sway on his feet. 

“Joshua,” Minho heard Granny say as his eyes slipped shut. 

“Yes?”

“I believe we forgot to have them lie down first.”

“I didn’t forget. I wanted to see Minho face plant the floor.”

Minho found himself falling before he passed out completely, his face mere inches away from the ground. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Fuck,” Minho hissed as he struggled to blink his heavy eyelids open. “I’m not sure if I’d ever get used to that sensation.” 

Minho gave up his attempt to wake up completely for a brief second and instead took the time to readjust to the sudden change. 

The sun, warm and bright, shone directly on his face but his limbs, outstretched like a star, felt cool. Minho could hear the faint rustling of leaves above and around him. The grass below tickled his exposed skin. If he concentrated hard enough, however, Minho could make out the harsh lullaby of moving water. 

Oh, and Minho was pretty sure that Jisung laid on top of him. 

The familiar scent of freshly ripened oranges, a delicate balance between sour and sweet, and the earthly undertones of mint tickled Minho’s sensitive nostrils and overpowered any other scent nearby. It certainly didn’t help that Jisung’s head was right below his chin and perhaps it wasn’t the scent that was tickling his nose, but the brown strands of hair instead. 

Jisung was a comfortable weight if Minho was being honest to himself. The boy was lighter than Minho yet still had some weight to him. Jisung wasn’t as soft as he seemed, the only squish Jisung had was his cheeks, otherwise, the boy was all muscle. 

“Why was that substantially worse than Seohyun-ssi's?” Jisung groaned.

Minho felt the younger boy come to his senses before he pulled his head back and paused, momentarily tensing. 

Still keeping his eyes shut, Minho hummed an agreement. “Yeah, that one definitely sucked.”

“Oh shit.” 

With remarkable speed for someone who had just awoken, Jisung immediately pushed himself away from Minho and sprung to his feet. However, due to his haste, Minho, unfortunately, got a knee to his stomach. 

“Ow fuck, Jisung!” Minho hissed as he turned to his side to clutch his stomach. All the solids and liquids Minho had consumed prior threatened to resurface. 

“Oh, um. Sorry.” At least Jisung had the decency to sound apologetic. 

Minho sighed before slowly he rose to his feet. He sent a quick glare at Jisung but there was no real heat behind it. 

“Where are we?” Minho said instead of the bitter remark resting on his tongue. 

Jisung made a contemplative noise as he looked around, eyes large and imploring as he did so. 

“We’re in a bamboo forest,” Jisung said after a beat of silence, deadpan. 

Minho stared at him. “Yeah, no shit.” 

Jisung only offered him a shrug before he turned around to stalk off in a random direction. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” Minho asked.

“Nope.”

Staring at the younger’s back, Minho realized that if he didn’t start walking, Jisung would leave him behind, and hunting him down would not be fun. 

They walked slowly, or more accurately, Jisung walked slowly while Minho trailed behind and watched the young prince. Jisung was constantly looking around with bits of bewilderment dashing across his face every couple of minutes. Minho didn’t really understand what was so interesting; it all looked the same. Green, green, and more green. And a little bit of brown. 

“Hey, do you hear that?” Jisung suddenly said and stopped in his tracks. 

Minho paused and listened carefully, but couldn’t decipher any new sounds. 

“No. What’d you hear?”

“It sounds like water!” Jisung’s eyes lit up as he realized where the noise was coming from and suddenly changed direction. Minho bit down the remark that he knew there was water ages ago, but decided against it for the sake of keeping the joyous expression on the younger’s face. 

Jisung walked much faster now, every little step bounced with excitement. Minho, never one for large bodies of water, was much less excited but Jisung’s unadulterated joy was enough to move even Minho’s stony heart just a little bit. 

“We’re close!” Jisung said as a smile cracked across his face. Minho only had a second to process what the younger said before Jisung suddenly broke off into a run and left Minho scrambling after him. 

“Wait!” Minho tried to call out but Jisung just ignored him and continued his mad dash to the water. 

Much to Minho’s surprise, Jisung was graceful and fast on his feet. He seemed to skim over the bamboo shoots and dodge the loose rocks with ease. Jisung ducked and pushed the branches aside, not carrying if the leaves smacked Minho as the older tried to catch up. 

But despite Jisung’s best efforts, if he was trying at all, Minho was still faster. 

A strange desire to catch Jisung suddenly washed over Minho when he realized that he was gaining on him. Jisung, small and nimble, honestly seemed like a squirrel that Minho could catch. Like prey.

_Mine._

Excitement, as well as a bit of adrenaline, thrummed through Minho as he reached out for the younger, a hair’s width away. If he just pushed a little more, he could catch him. 

_You’re mine._

Minho stretched out his hand and felt the silky material of Jisung’s shirt before the younger suddenly stopped. 

“Wow!” Jisung spun around and for a brief second, Minho was face to face with him. Minho could make out the faint sunspots across the younger’s nose bridge and his individual eyelashes. Minho could see very vividly the golden flecks in Jisung’s otherwise strikingly green eyes and the way they slightly widened when Jisung realized how close they were.

_He’s beautiful._

“Shit-”

They crashed. 

Minho collided face-first into Jisung. Their foreheads knocked together as they both tumbled to the ground in one tangled pile of limbs and profanity. Loose bits of gravel dug into Minho’s palms as he tried to brace himself for the inevitable impact, but it never came. 

Spring oranges and fresh mint. That was the first thing Minho noted when the dust around them settled. 

Minho cracked open his eyes only to see the underside of Jisung’s chin. The younger, Minho realized, laid on the ground and muttered explicits, while Minho laid on his chest. 

_FUCK._

“O-oh,” Minho muttered elegantly as he stood up quickly and offered a hand to Jisung. “Sorry.”

The younger lifted his head only to glare at Minho before he dropped it back onto the ground. Minho winced at the hollow sound the impact made. 

“Yeah, you better be.” With no real bite to his words, Jisung took his outstretched hand and allowed himself to be pulled up to a standing position. “At least we made it in one piece.”

“Yeah, we- Woah.” For the first time, Minho noticed where they were.

The water, as it turned out, was an enormous lake. 

The body of water stretched far beyond the horizon in a shimmering streak of blue. The surface of the water shined as the sun reflected its rays off the lake. 

But the most breathtaking part was what was above the lake. 

Miles above was an island. A floating island with a mountain. 

It appeared as if a giant hand grabbed a fist full of the ground and held it above the lake in its open clutches. Water ran down the sides of the island and poured into the lake below, leaving the water with ripples and leaving the air with sprays of water. The air around them hung heavy with moisture. 

The island itself was large and narrowed downwards into a single point, almost mirroring the mountain above to create a kite shape. Roots from trees and other plants jutted out from below the island. And above the floating landmass, the mountain appeared blue and snowcapped. 

“What’s that?” Minho said, breaking the silence. Minho pointed to a red structure that had a stone pathway leading through it and ended in the water. Two round pillars stood parallel to each other and each side had two shorter pillars, which were connected by a perpendicular wooden plank. On top of the two tall pillars, a large roof connected each side, with a smaller piece directly under. 

“Huh,” Jisung’s head tilted 45 degrees before he took a tentative step towards the structure. 

“Woah,” Minho reached out to grab the younger’s arm before he knew what he was doing. “What if it’s cursed or something?” 

“Cursed?” Jisung scoffed. “I don’t think so. Plus, it looks familiar.”

“Familiar?” Minho narrowed his eyes. 

Jisung only rolled his eyes before he spun on his heels and approached the structure. “Yeah, it looks like something I’ve seen in a textbook.”

“What the hell are you learning for you to come across this in a textbook?” Minho grumbled while slowly trailing behind the younger. 

“Japanese history.” 

They stood in front of the red structure together and observed. The red paint, despite being in direct sunlight, was bright and well taken care of. The wood was perfectly preserved even though the pillars disappeared into the water. 

“Ah!” Jisung suddenly exclaimed, eyes lighting up as if someone had flipped a light switch. He snapped his fingers as he grinned. “It’s a torii gate!” 

“A what gate?”

“A torii gate,” Jisung repeated himself slowly. “They represent the change from mundane life to sacred.” 

“See?” Minho crossed his arms and gave the younger a wary look. “I told you they’re cursed.”

“They’re not cursed.” The smile slipped from Jisung’s face when he shot Minho a glare. “It’s the opposite actually.” 

“Okay, so we’re in Japan. That’s great.” Jisung made a noise of agreement before Minho continued. “What do we do now?”

“I don’t know. Shouldn’t you know? The Destined One and all.”

A bitter taste coated the top of Minho’s mouth as his lips turned to a scowl. “No, I don’t know. You’re the one who studied Japan, shouldn’t you know?”

“Yes, Japan. Not Lee Minho’s prophecy.” 

Minho whacked the back of Jisung’s head. 

“Aw, fuck,” Jisung hissed as he massaged the back of his head. “I seriously don’t know. I studied Japanese history for the sake of politics.” 

“That’s just great,” Minho grumbled. “How are we going to find this Yuta person if we don’t even know where to go now?” 

“That sounds like a personal problem.”

“How is that a personal problem? You’re stuck too!” 

“Yeah, but I’m not being a little bit-”

“OI!” 

Jisung’s mouth clamped shut when the shout of a stranger startled them, successfully stopping the bickering between them. Turning around, a man with a straw hat and a yellow and black robe pushed through the thick foliage. He pointed at them with a bamboo staff before he shouted in a language Minho did not know. 

“Do you know what he’s saying?” Minho whispered to Jisung as the man’s movements became aggressive and impatient. “Does he wanna fight?”

“Um, no.” Jisung didn’t look away from the man. “He’s asking us how we got here. Apparently this is sacred land.”

“Well, no duh. You said that red thing was a dory gate, or whatever. Marks the change between non-sacred and sacred.” Minho rolled his eyes as the man finally stopped yelling at them. “Wait, you know what he’s saying?” 

Minho spun on his heels to look at the younger, eyes wide in disbelief. Jisung only looked back with a sheepish expression. 

“Yeah, how can I converse with foreign countries if I don’t know their language?” 

“They can learn korean.”

“That’s just ignorant. Plus, I wouldn’t be able to tell if they’re talking shit about me.” 

“Translators exist.” 

“They can backstab or lie.” 

“Well-” “Oi!” 

Snapping out of their argument, the man shouted a few words before turning around and disappearing into the forest. 

“He said that if we want to get out alive then we should follow him.” Jisung supplied without Minho asking. 

Minho, much to his dismay, figured that they had to listen to the stranger and trust him to lead them out. 

“I guess we don’t have any other choice.” 

“We don’t,” Jisung said as he began to follow the man before he could leave them behind for good. 

Sighing, Minho moved to trail after them, secretly glad that they were entering the cool bamboo forest instead of remaining in the sun’s relentless rays. 

“What other languages do you know?” Minho asked Jisung after they walked for a few minutes. 

“Besides Korean and Japanese, I also know Mandirin and English,” Jisung replied nonchalantly. “I’ll probably study a few others, it depends really.” 

Minho made a noise of understanding as he digested the information before it suddenly clicked in his mind. “Wait, you’re fluent in Mandarin and English yet you made me talk to those people in China with my broken English and barely-present Mandarin?” 

A brief moment of awkward silence grew between the two of them before it completely shattered when Jisung bursted out laughing. The sound startled Minho. It was different to what he was used to- polite chuckles or a quick laugh- not this. This type of laughter had Jisung clutching his sides and struggling to breathe as the sound spilled from between his lips. 

“Yeah, sorry about that. You would just charge in before I could say anything so I kept silent.” Jisung choked out between fits of laughter and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. 

“Asshole,” Minho muttered as he looked away, suddenly embarrassed. 

“Don’t worry,” Jisung said before he cleared his throat and placed a reassuring hand on Minho’s shoulder. “It’s the effort that counts.” 

“Whatever.” Minho’s face burned as he shrugged Jisung’s hand off. The motion sent Jisung into another laughing fit. 

Although it was at the expense of Minho’s pride, he found that he was fine with it as long as Jisung was laughing. 

_His laugh is cute._

_Wait._

Before Minho could process what he had just thought of, the man said something and pushed a branch aside to reveal a dirt road. He pointed down the path then stepped aside to let Minho and Jisung pass. 

Jisung said something before he bowed and Minho followed suit after a beat. 

After the man left, Jisung stood up straight. “It’s this way.”

“What’s that way?” Minho questioned as Jisung walked ahead. 

“The exit.” 

“Did you ask him about the guy Granny told us to find?” 

Jisung paused in his tracks abruptly.

“Oh, I forgot.” 

“You’re fucking kidding me.”

“I’m sorry.”

Minho sighed. The man was long gone and there was no one in sight for them to ask. 

“Let’s just go.” Minho turned to continue down the path but soon froze when someone suddenly shouted. 

“Get back here, you little shit!” 

“You’re too slow!” 

Minho and Jisung stood shocked as a man with fiery red hair ran past them before they could so much as utter a single word. He only left behind the scent of cherry and sandalwood

A moment later, a man with dark hair and pale skin came running by. 

“Stop right there, you bi- Gah!” 

Before the dark-haired man could get any further, Minho reached out and grabbed the back of his collar and successfully stopped the stranger even if Minho might’ve choked him. 

“Who the hell are you?” The stranger questioned, eyes ablaze as he stared Minho down. Their victim was a tad taller than both of them and had a slightly long face. He was beautiful, Minho realized, but too beautiful. There was a certain quality about the man that had Minho suspecting that he wasn’t entirely human. 

“Do you know who Yuta is?” Minho ignored his question. 

The man gave them a weird look before he shrugged Minho’s grasp off his collar. “Nakamoto? Nakamoto Yuta?”

“We actually don’t know his surname, but any Yuta would do!” Jisung said cheerfully despite the tense atmosphere. 

With a sigh, the man straightened before he gestured to where the man with red hair ran off to. “That guy, the annoying one, is Nakamoto Yuta. If you can catch him, you can do whatever the hell you want to him.” He crossed his arms with a finalizing puff of air. 

Jisung immediately dropped his gaze to Minho with a look in his eyes that had Minho recoiling in distrust. They continued to stare at each other, communicating with just their eyes, as the man next to them watched carefully.

“No.” Minho said firmly but he already knew that he lost. Since when was he so weak to Jisung?

“Minho,” Jisung drawled, causing a chill to run down his spine. 

“Ugh, fine.” Minho huffed and gave up. With one last glare to show Jisung that he was not happy, to which Jisung responded with a shit-eating grin, Minho spun on his heels and ran off towards where the man- Yuta- ran off to.

“Wait, where’s he going?” The stranger said as Minho whizzed past.

“Off to catch Yuta,” Jisung replied. 

Minho ran for a minute or two before he stopped. 

Closing his eyes, Minho let the wind blow in his face as he tried to calm his racing mind. Taking a sharp breath in, Minho concentrated on the clean, yet moist air around him, looking for that one scent he briefly smelled a while ago. Muscles relaxed, Minho felt lightning below his skin thrum alive like a machine that had just been turned on after sitting unused for some time. 

The feeling scared Minho, but instead of shutting it out, he accepted it. He let the lightning send prickles up his arms and down his spine. He accepted how his muscles shifted and contracted as his bones realigned themselves. He allowed himself to fall onto all fours, and instead of hands, paws graced the damp Earth. 

He exhaled then opened his eyes. The colorlessness of his surroundings barely fazed Minho. He was too busy trying to find the scent of the young man to notice. It didn’t take long for Minho to detect cherry and sandalwood then bolt off. 

Making a sharp turn, Minho charged back into the bamboo forest and ignored the occasional low branches that would hit the top of his head. 

When the scent became strong and clearly distinguishable, Minho slowed down and lowered himself close to the ground, a growl in his throat. 

“Who’s there?” Yuta said before switching to Japanese and whirled around as he looked around for someone. “Doyoung? Is that you?”

Minho paid him no mind, he was close to capturing his prey. 

_Wait. Prey?_

Startled at his train of thought, Minho rose from his crouched position. Leaves shook as Minho’s head poked out of the foliage and he made eye contact with Yuta.

“Since when did we have tigers?” Yuta’s voice turned shrill at the end.

_“Wait, I’m not going to hurt you,”_ Minho tried to say but it came out as a growl instead. 

Yuta screamed before he took off running once again, but before he could make it far, Minho pounced to catch the male. 

The only problem was that Minho, not used to the strength this form had, pushed off with too much force and collided into Yuta. 

_“Oh my god. Calm down!”_ Minho snapped at him but it came out as a roar. Minho’s attempt at placating only led to Yuta screaming more and muttering what Minho could only assume were prayers. 

_Ah, right. I’m still a tiger._

With a huff, Minho sat down on the male, which for some reason, caused him to shut up entirely. Minho wasn’t one to question the odd behavior since it gave him the necessary peace and quiet he needed to shift back. 

Minho closed his eyes and concentrated on his breathing. As if he was in the hands of a giant, Minho felt compressed as his body shifted from feline to human. He gritted his teeth when his bones snapped apart only to reattach in a different location. 

When Minho opened his eyes, he saw the last remnants of his transformation complete before he glanced down to the man below him. 

“Hi, are you Yuta?” Minho asked him. 

The man stared at Minho as if he grew another head before he spoke. “If I say yes, will you eat me?” 

“It depends on how useful you are.” Minho bit back his laughter when Yuta paled. 

“Oh. Then yes, I am Yuta. Nakamoto Yuta.” 

“Lovely.” Minho got off the man before offering a hand. Yuta hesitantly grabbed Minho’s hand but the wild look in his brown eyes still remained. 

“So why’d you chase after me?” 

“Do you know Mrs. Hong, she's sometimes called Granny, and lives in Korea?” Minho chose to say instead of answering his question. 

Yuta’s face, like a lightbulb, lit up once Minho mentioned the old lady. “Oh! Are you the boy she sent for me to help? Nemo?” 

Minho balled his hand into a fist to keep himself from accidentally swinging. “It’s Minho.” 

“Ah, my bad, Minho.” Yuta laughed. Even if Yuta got Minho’s name wrong, at least it was apparent that Yuta held no harsh feelings despite how Minho accidentally scared him. “Let’s get back and we can discuss this somewhere safer, alright?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are two Finding Nemo references and I did not mean to do that.


	6. Esurient

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Esurient: an adjective meaning hungry or greedy
> 
> Minho and Jisung both nearly lose something dear to them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Researching Japanese folklore for this chapter was really fun  
> As always, enjoy! :)

“So let me get this straight, you wanna bless your death-stick? Your double edged sword? I see you’re packin’ two of them, huh? You must be popular with the ladies.” Yuta smirked while Doyoung groaned into his hands. 

“Please stop using penis innuendos to refer to his katanas.” Doyoung looked as if Yuta’s words physically pained him. It certainly pained Minho. 

“What’s wrong with it? Look how cool his fun-sticks look. His dude-pistons.”

“Yuta hyung,” Jisung managed to say between bursts of laughter. “They’re just getting worse.”

“No, they were straight terrible from the beginning.” 

“Shut up, Doyoung.” Yuta gave the other a glare. “Let’s ask the man himself what he thinks. Minho, what should we call your power rod? Your schlong dongadoodle. Your-”

“Oh my heavens, Yuta! Shut the fuck you!” Doyoung slammed his fists on the table, which only served to send both Yuta and Jisung into fits of hysterics. Minho just wanted the ground to open and swallow him whole.

“Calling them katanas or swords is fine, Yuta hyung.” 

Yuta sobered quickly once Minho said that which left Minho’s mind reeling at how fast his mood changed. “Boring.” Yuta sang. “He’s just like you, Doyoung.”

“Thank the heavens above. Someone _normal_.” 

“Fuck you, Doyoung. I am normal.” 

“Yeah and I’m heterosexual.”

“Can you please tell me how to bless my katanas?” Minho spoke quickly to prevent them from arguing more. 

Jisung choked back another laugh when Yuta looked surprised to see Minho still sitting before him. 

“Oh right! I did promise Granny that I’d do that. Bless her heart. How is she doing anyway?” 

“Yuta.”

“Okay, sorry.” Yuta cleared his throat before his face suddenly became serious. The light and playful atmosphere between them now shifted to something heavier. “To be completely honest, I’d be surprised if you’d be able to do it. The monks here spend their entire lifetime trying to ready themselves, but most don’t succeed.” 

Minho gulped and wiped his sweaty palms on his pants. He can’t fail this. 

“There’s a cave that you enter from. That’s where the first stage is. I don’t know what you’ll have to face, since it changes per person, but all I can say is be wary of the keikos.” 

“Keiko?” Jisung asked before Minho could.

Doyoung spoke up, “that means shadow. They’re spirits that are black and hide in the shadows. They’re tricky spirits and can copy someone if you’re not careful. If they copy you, they know everything about you from who you love to-”

“Even the tiny mole on your left buttcheek.” 

Doyoung sent a glare at Yuta, who only widened his grin once he noticed his friend.

“Anyway,” Doyoung cleared his throat to gain everyone’s attention again, “They essentially become an exact replica of you, but they’re easy to ward off. Just don’t fall unconscious near them.”

“Alright,” Minho nodded his understanding. “Noted.”

“The second stage,” Yuta began after a short pause, “is actually getting to the temple.” 

“Is it hard?” Jisung asked.

Yuta nodded. “You’ll find yourself on Mount. Fuji if you succeed. Don’t ask me how that works, but it just does, okay? Magic or some shit.” 

“Is Mount. Fuji the mountain that’s floating above a lake, by any chance?” Minho had a feeling that he was right.

“Oh?” Yuta’s eyes widened. “How’d you know? Did Granny tell you?” 

“No,” Minho rubbed the back of his neck, somehow feeling as if he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar. “We saw it earlier. There was a red torii gate and everything.” 

“What? How did you…” Doyoung trailed off as Yuta stared at them, mouth agape. 

“Were we not supposed to?” Jisung laughed nervously. 

“You can think of Mount. Fuji as a breathing, living being,” Doyoung explained, eyebrows bunched close. “She only allows certain people to be able to get through the forest and reach the torii gate.” 

“Maybe you two can do it after all.” Yuta mused. “Okay! Back on track!” Yuta suddenly said with the clap of his hands. “On Mount. Fuji, the only thing I know that you have to be wary of, besides a long trek, are the Kuda-gitsunes.”

“Kuda-gitsunes,” Dooyoung began, “are small fox-like creatures. They protect the sacred land against evil and are very defensive towards those they consider their master, which by the way, is Mount. Fuji. They’re perceptive and witty creatures so I hope you two have at least one active brain cell, unlike dumbass over there.” Doyoung rolled his eyes as he thrusted a thumb towards Yuta. 

“Hey!” Yuta whined. “I have many beautiful and intelligent brain cells, thank you very much!” 

“Right,” Doyoung sighed before turning to Minho and Jisung. “Do you guys have any questions?” 

“When can we start?” Minho asked. 

Yuta’s eyes lit up at the same time Doyoung gave him a weird look. 

“Whenever you’re ready!”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Here we are.” Yuta propped his hands on his hips after he managed to unlock the door to the entrance. 

Dust and the smell of mildew flew into the air as Yuta and Doyoung pushed open the aged wooden door. The doors revealed a modest room with starchy yellow paper-thin walls and dark wooden cross beams. The most impressive part of the room was not the geometric pattern of the tatami, but the gaping hole in the back wall. 

A thick, twisted rope hung across the hole, and pieces of what Minho could only describe as lightning-shaped paper and tassels hung from the rope. Two statues of what appeared to be a mixture of a lion and a dog stood on either side of the hole, the statue on the left had its mouth closed, whereas the one on the right had its mouth open. 

“Oof, when's the last time someone has been in here?” Yuta asked Doyoung as he fanned the dust away from his face. 

Doyoung shrugged as a response before he turned to face Minho and Jisung. “Off you go,” he gestured toward the hole. 

Taking a deep breath in, Minho moved past the two older boys before he was pulled back by a grip on his collar. 

“Take your shoes off first!” Yuta hissed. “You’ll ruin the tatami.”

“Fuck, okay.” Minho sent Jisung a wary look but the younger didn’t even see it since he was too busy taking his boots off. 

Begrudgingly, Minho took off his boots and traveled the short distance from the door to the hole. 

“This was not necessary,” Minho mumbled to no one in particular as he put his boots back on. “Literally not even ten feet away.”

Minho peered through the hole and was greeted with pitch-black darkness. He could faintly make out the seemingly endless tunnel and the sharp edges of the cave walls but otherwise couldn’t see anything else. 

“Alright, kids,” Yuta called from behind. “Have fun and be safe!” 

“Take this,” Doyoung said before he tossed an object that Jisung caught effortlessly. 

“Ah, thanks Hyung!” Jisung cheerfully said as he waved bye. “I hope to see you both soon.”  
  


Jisung, without another word, disappeared first into the cave with a soft ‘Woah.’ Minho glanced one last time over his shoulder at the two males before Minho gave them a nod to convey his gratitude. 

Once Minho stepped through the hole, a shudder shook the ground. 

“Woah, I’ve never seen that before,” Yuta mumbled. 

Glancing back, Minho watched as the hole began to close as if it was not a hole but a mouth instead. 

“That’s creepy,” Jisung said as they met each other’s gaze. 

The flashlight Doyoung gave them illuminated the cave with a sharp white light. Sharp shadows danced across their skin and the cave walls as the light refracted from the uneven surfaces. 

Minho couldn’t help but think that even in the poor lighting, Jisung still looked good. 

“Lead the way,” Minho said, pointing ahead with his chin. 

Jisung nodded wordlessly and began to walk carefully. The loose gravel under their boots crunched and echoed off the angular walls. Minho could make out the faint sound of water dripping but other than that, it was eerily quiet. 

They walked for a few minutes before the hair at the base of Minho’s skull stood on edge. He couldn’t help but feel as if someone was watching them. Just to be cautious, Minho took a tentative glance behind and felt his blood run cold. 

“Jisung,” Minho hissed. 

In the pitch-black darkness, a pair of eyes stared back at Minho, eyes wide and hollow. They glowed yellow and didn’t blink. Minho could barely make out a black wispy body, long and shapeless. Minho was suddenly all too aware of the cramped environment; they had nowhere to run to. 

“What is it?” Jisung turned around and with him, the light of the flashlight followed. 

The eyes and the rest of the creature disappeared the second the light found it. 

“It’s gone,” Minho’s voice wavered. 

“What’s gone?” 

Instead of answering, Minho pushed the flashlight away and the moment the light was gone, the eyes were back but closer this time. 

“What the hell is that?” Jisung asked what Minho was thinking. 

“I have no ide- what the fuck?!” Minho jumped and before he could even mutter another word, the creature began to quickly approach them. Minho tried to take a retreating step back but he collided into Jisung's sturdy chest. Even if they could run, Minho realized belatedly as the creature stared straight into his soul, was that it would not have mattered because the creature was already mere millimeters away. 

Minho pulled out his knife and thrust the short blade into the wispy body, but he was only met with an icy cold breeze that sent a chill down his spine when the creature continued its path through the two boys. 

Eyebrows raised in confusion, Minho glanced behind them only to see the wispy creature disperse into a dark fog that eventually dissipated into nothing. “What was that?”

“I have no idea.” Jisung’s teeth chattered as he rubbed his hands along his arms to try to gather some warmth. “Maybe that was the keiko Yuta Hyung and Doyoung Hyung told us about.” 

“Maybe,” Minho wasn’t quite convinced. If the two males had warned them about the creature, they must be more dangerous than what had just happened. “Let’s just keep going.”

Wordlessly, they continued onward but with more caution than before. 

A breeze blew through the tunnel and Minho immediately began to regret ditching his long-sleeved shirt. As he mentally scolded himself, Minho inhaled as if the motion would give him an ounce of warmth, but he only received a lungful of spring orange and fresh mint. 

“I think the tunnel is going to open up.” Jisung’s voice ricocheted off the walls. 

Looking around Jisung, Minho could see that the prince was right. The tunnel opened up to a larger room but they were too far for the flashlight to illuminate what could be in it. 

It didn’t take long before they made it to the cavern. The ceiling of the cave was several feet above them, but with the addition of stalactites and stalagmites, the room seemed smaller than what it probably was. Moisture dripped from the stalactites above, the drops echoed in the wide space once it hit the floor. 

Mushrooms with umbrella-like caps grew amongst the stalactites and along the walls. They glowed green and gave the space a subtle earthy smell. Even without the flashlight, the light from the mushrooms was enough for Minho to see.

What really threw Minho off, however, were the wispy strands of white fibrous material wrapped around the stalactites and stalagmites, strung around the cavern like a life-sized version of connect the dots. 

“Woah,” Minho whispered and the sound echoed off the walls. 

“It would be nice but these ruin it.” Jisung scrunched his nose as the white fibrous strings clung to his sleeve and he couldn’t shake it off. “They remind me of spider webs.”

Minho held back his laughter before moving to snatch it off. “Unless giant spiders exist, I don’t think these are webs.” 

It was true; there was no way normal spiders could produce webs large enough to string across the expanse of the cave. Some areas were also thick in width, far too large for a normal spider. 

“God, I hope not,” Jisung murmured before he moved ahead. 

Walking carefully, they made their way across the cavern and was met with a difficult choice. Left or right? The cavern split into two different directions. 

“What do you think?” Jisung asked as he alternated shining the flashlight in each direction. It was futile because they couldn’t see anything helpful. 

“Let’s go left first.” Minho shrugged. 

The tunnel this time was large enough for them to walk side by side. Although their arms occasionally knocked against each other, they had enough space. 

“Gah!” Jisung sputtered as he shook his head erratically.

“What?” Minho tried his best not to laugh. He really did. 

“I walked into a spider web,” Jisung whined. 

Looking carefully, Minho could make out the wispy thread as it swung loose in the air now that Jisung disturbed it. “Thanks for that. Now I don’t have to walk through it.” 

“Ha ha,” Jisung shot Minho an unimpressed look before they both trudged onward. 

As they continued, Minho couldn’t help but think that maybe something peculiar was going on. The longer they walked, the denser the wispy strands became and the more frequently they appeared. Before long, the entire walls and floor were covered by the white material. Jisung had resorted to hiding behind Minho and made the older cut through the strands first, much to Minho’s dismay. 

“I really, really don’t like this,” Jisung mumbled through clenched teeth. 

“You’re overreacting,” Minho said but he didn’t believe his own words. Especially when the strands had become so dense that Minho could barely cut through. 

Jisung clung to the back of Minho’s shirt and his hand tightened around the material. “Let’s just go back. There was the right tunnel, remember?” 

Minho nodded and accepted defeat. Disgust crawled along his arms and sent a shudder to run down his spine when they turned around. The two of them, however, didn’t make it far before Minho heard a crunch and a pungent odor filled the air. 

“Ugh, what the hell is that smell?” Minho’s face soured as he looked down to see Jisung’s right foot surrounded by a goopy brown liquid with mysterious chunks.

Minho would’ve found Jisung’s expression funny if it wasn’t for the sickening smell that quickly filled the small tunnel. 

“I have no idea.” Even in the poor lighting, Minho could see how pale Jisung’s face was. 

“It smells like rotten eg- it’s an egg.” Minho’s face quickly fell to match Jisung’s. 

They stared at each other as they both digested the new information and Minho’s blood turned cold. Taking a shallow breath, as to not smell more of the foul scent, Minho looked away from the substance but only to end up noticing something new about the walls. Before, it was solid white due to the wispy strands, but now, red beady eyes appeared from beneath. Minho could only see a few before more and more appeared until there were more red than white. 

“Run.” Minho managed to say after struggling to find his voice. “Run!” 

They bolted from where they came from right as the deafening sound of something scattering across the tunnel’s ceiling, walls, and floor followed after them. 

“What’d you say about this not being webs?” Jisung shouted. Bitterness coated his words. 

“I didn’t think it was possible for one fucking spider to do all of this!” Minho retorted. “If I knew there would be millions, then I would’ve believed it!” 

They ran for what seemed like ages and Minho had a hard time believing they walked this far from the entrance. Besides the sound of angry spiders, Minho could only hear his and Jisung’s haggard breathing. 

“Oh!” Jisung suddenly said as he began to search for something in his bag. “I have something that could help us.”

“Well, hurry the fuck up.” Minho hissed. 

“Give me a second to find it.” Jisung began to slow down as he stuck his hand further into the bag secured around his leg. Minho took a wary glance back only to see that if Jisung didn’t find it soon, they’d be eaten alive. “I found it!” 

In his hand, Jisung held an object about the size and shape of a lemon. The ring that rested at the top of the object gleaned in the crude light. 

“A grenade.” Minho stopped mid-step to gape at Jisung. “Where the hell did you get that?” 

Pulling the ring out with his teeth, Jisung pulled back his arm then threw it in the middle of where the hoard of spiders was. Without a second to spare, Jisung grabbed Minho’s arm and pulled the older to start running again. 

“It was a gift,” Jisung said between labored breaths, “don’t worry about it.” 

If Minho was not being chased by hundreds of spiders, he would’ve worried. 

The two of them stumbled back into the large cavern and hid behind a stalagmite just as the grenade went off. The cavern floor shook as bits of debris and spider guts flew past them and splattered across the walls and speleothems. 

After the dust settled and the ringing in Minho’s ears stopped, he tentatively peeked from behind the stalagmite. 

“Are we good?” Jisung whispered. 

“Yeah, I think so.” Straightening, Minho examined the carnage. 

Most of the spiders were in shreds and the ones that managed to survive weren’t anything Minho couldn’t handle. Miscellaneous spider parts, including their insides, painted the walls and speleothems with bits splattered on the ceiling as well. The abdomen of one spider suddenly fell from the ceiling and landed a few feet away from Minho with a wet splat. 

Now that they weren’t being chased by carnivorous spiders, Minho could examine the morbid creature. They were large; their body was approximately the size of Minho’s hand if stretched out and their legs were easily a foot or two long. 

“That’s absolutely disgusting.” Jisung hissed from where he hid behind Minho. Even though they were now safe, Jisung still clutched the back of his shirt tightly with both of his hands. 

“Yeah, fucking stink too.” If the smell of the single egg was bad, this was a hundred times worse. 

“Honestly.” Jisung agreed with a nod.

“Can’t believe you’re scared of spiders.” Minho laughed as he turned around to sneer at Jisung. 

The younger only straightened and rolled his eyes at Minho. “They’re gross as shit. I mean look at them, they’re huge!” 

Minho couldn’t lie; they were huge and freaky, but he wanted to distract the younger from the terror of the spiders even if it resulted in Jisung getting annoyed at Minho. 

“Just admit that you’re a coward.” Minho laughed and expected the younger to give him an irritated glare, but Minho's cherry disposition quickly died when Jisung’s face dropped and he began to shake. “Are you okay?” 

“Minho l-look.” Jisung stammered. “Just look.” 

Turning around, Minho felt his heart fall out of his ass. 

Eight eyes stared back at them, red and beady. Two yellow and large fangs hung from the spider’s mouth and glistened with saliva. The creature itself was easily the size of a large elephant and it struggled to pull its bulbous body out from the tunnel, but when it did, it stretched its lengthy and thick legs to reveal sharp barbs on its six legs. 

The spiders they just killed were the babies. This was the mom and now they were going to face her wrath. 

She hissed and the noise sent tremors down Minho’s spine as he hopelessly stared back at the eight red eyes and tried not to vomit from the smell. 

“I think we should run,” Minho whispered just as the spider began to prepare for an attack. 

Without having to say anything else, they both bolted just as the mother spider spat a thick, viscous liquid. The liquid spatted against the wall behind them, barely missing the two of them as they dashed to the tunnel on the right. 

The tunnel was small, which was both a good and bad thing. The good thing was that the mother spider had a difficult time squeezing her large body through the tunnel which significantly slowed down her movements. The bad thing was that if she tried to spit at them again, there was no way they could dodge it. 

“It’s gonna open up to another cavern,” Minho said breathlessly once he realized that they weren’t going to be trapped. 

“Thank God it’s not a dead-end,” Jisung mumbled as he pulled out a gun and began firing. A bullet grazed against the side of her face, which made her hiss in anger. The next bullet made contact with one of the outer eyes and with a sickening pop, greenish-yellow liquid oozed out of the wound as she thrashed angrily and hissed again. 

The moment the tunnel widened into another cavern, they both split into different directions. This cavern was much larger than the previous with significantly fewer speleothems. 

They stood at opposite ends of the cavern, waiting anxiously for the spider to make her way through the tunnel. They could hear the mother spider push through, her black body scraped against the rough cave walls. 

It didn’t take long before her head poked out of the hole, followed by the thorax. After she managed to squeeze her abdomen out of the tunnel, she climbed up the wall with her long legs. 

The spider barely had any time to situate herself before Jisung began firing. 

For the most part, any bullet that came into contact with the insect merely bounced off or only grazed her exoskeleton. To the spider, it must’ve been just a nuisance. 

Her head turned to glare at Jisung before she suddenly charged. She skittered along the wall with surprising speed as Jisung frantically tried to aim for the vulnerable parts. 

Snapping into action, Minho drew his katanas and charged. Swinging the two blades in a high arc, he slashed into the spider’s thorax and sent spews of thick goo into the air. 

She whined, high pitched and throaty before she suddenly used one of her many legs to swipe Minho away. The appendage made contact with Minho’s stomach and resulted in Minho gasping for breath as he rolled across the stone-cold ground. 

“Are you alright?” Jisung asked as he managed to shoot another eye. 

Minho picked himself up and shook the loose rocks from his hair. “Never been better.” 

Minho took off charging at the creature, right arm pulled back to swing, but from the corner of his eye, Minho could see a stray baby spider charging towards him. 

Time seemed to slow as the baby spider jumped and barred its fangs, saliva dripped from its opened mouth as it descended toward Minho's face. Minho barely had time to make out the fleshy underbelly of the insect before it exploded as Jisung’s bullet whizzed past Minho's head to shoot through it. 

“We need to tip her over,” Minho said as he regained his bearings. “Their stomach is their weak point.”

The mother spider skid across the stone ground before she raised a barbed leg and aimed directly for Minho. At the last possible second, Minho rolled out of the way as he swung his katana to slice her leg off cleanly. 

The ground shook as she fell to the ground. Frustration rolled off of her like the liquid from her eyes. The greenish-yellow discharge dripped onto the ground in thick globs, the sound echoed in the large cavern. 

Minho tensed as he waited for her to attack again. His breathing slowed as he analyzed the mother spider and tried to predict her next move. Her eyes flicked to him and Minho would see how angry she was at him. Unbeknownst to Minho, a sadistic smile stretched across his face as he silently taunted her.

_Come at me._

She charged at Minho, her legs skittered across the cold stone, and excitement flooded Minho's body. Minho readied himself to parry the mother spider's attack, but before she could get close enough for Minho to reach her, she suddenly turned for Jisung. 

Minho wasn't quite sure why she didn't attack him, but perhaps amongst all of her pain, she was confused and scared. Minho couldn’t really blame her because they were the ones who accidentally encroached on her home and killed her children, but Minho had never been a sympathetic person and there was no way they both could leave alive, so it was either her or them. 

Jisung’s eyes widened as the insect quickly approached him with speed they didn’t realize she had. The mother spider was quickly gaining on him and Jisung did not have enough time to aim his guns. 

Without thinking, Minho found himself moving. 

At first, Minho watched the spider run past him, then he was shoving Jisung out of the way, and finally, he was hit by a large moving mass. 

Minho found himself airborne and falling for a long, long time. 

The chilly air whipped around him and sliced his exposed skin. Minho's heart hammered in his chest as he cracked an eye open and watched how Jisung became a mere speck in the distance. The mother spider next to him screeched in annoyance as they both fell through a chasm neither he nor Jisung noticed before. 

Jisung’s mouth moved to form syllables but Minho didn’t hear what he said before everything went black. 

  
  
  
  
  
  


“Minho!” 

Jisung scrambled to the edge of the chasm and watched helplessly as Minho and the mother spider fell into the dark depths. Frantically looking around him, Jisung located the discarded flashlight. Jisung’s clammy hands slipped around the cold metal of the flashlight before he shined the light down into the chasm. 

Minho laid face down on the cold ground, unmoving, as the spider next to him struggled to get back on her feet. A chill ran down Jisung’s spine as he observed Minho’s still form. His heart pounded in his chest and his hands wavered. 

Jisung had never felt more useless. How many times has Minho saved Jisung despite the fact that Jisung had done nothing for the older male? Gritting his teeth, Jisung prayed to a God he didn’t believe in for Minho to still be alive. 

_Don’t leave me._

Without thinking, Jisung aimed his guns at the exposed underbelly of the spider and pulled the trigger. Shots rang through the air as sulfur tickled his nose. Tears pricked at his eyes as Minho’s lifeless form haunted his mind. 

_It’s always my fault._

Thinking back to when he was young, his father had once been proud of Jisung- his firstborn son- but soon after his pride turned bitter. Their relationship crumbled into dust when Jisung started to think for himself and started to strive for a better country with views his father didn't believe in. So when his father no longer saw Jisung as his son but just as merely a pawn to use, Jisung didn’t think much of it because he always had his mother to go back to. 

But then she left too. 

Jisung could never keep anything good. 

Nothing ever stays. 

Snapping out of his thoughts, Jisung breathed heavily as his gun sat warm in his palms and his shoulder ached. He stared at the still form of the mother spider who bore the marks of Jisung’s anger. The holes gushed greenish-yellow liquid and pooled around her body. 

A tear slipped from Jisung’s eye as he dropped his arm. 

Jisung simply felt hollow inside as he stood overlooking the chasm. The emptiness of the cavern made Jisung feel small and insignificant, already used to the calming presence of Minho. 

_Minho._

“Fuck,” Jisung cursed aloud and ran a hand through his damp hair. “How do I get down?” 

Looking around, Jisung tried to find a way to get down the deep chasm without dying, but before he could, a cold breeze sent goosebumps along his arms and made him pause. 

Jisung glanced up and felt his blood run cold as he met empty eyes that glowed yellow. Its wispy body was barely distinguishable in the shadows but Jisung knew what it was right away. 

“No,” Jisung’s voice shook. “You can’t have him.”

As if angry at Jisung’s selfishness, more glowing eyes and wispy bodies appeared out of the shadowy depths until the whole cavern was covered with the keikos. They seemed to taunt Jisung as if they knew the despair Jisung was going through.

Jisung wasn’t going to let those shadowy bastards get Minho. “Over my dead body,” he spat.

Without a single coherent thought, Jisung spun on his heels and took off running toward the chasm before he jumped with all his might. For a brief second, Jisung almost felt euphoric when his body seemed to weigh absolutely nothing. Then he almost threw up his heart when he started to plummet. 

A strong gust of wind knocked the breath out of Jisung’s lungs and sent a teeth-clattering chill down Jisung’s whole body. His hair whipped across his face as he seemed to fall in slow motion. 

He watched as the keikos rushed down the walls in one big mass. The whole temperature of the chasm dropped drastically as if they sucked all possible warmth. Just as Jisung’s breath bellowed out as a white puffy cloud, he landed in the green-yellow goo on the mother spider’s belly. 

“Shit,” Jisung hissed and ignored the metallic taste of blood from where he bit his tongue during the impact. He scrambled to his feet and slid off the giant insect and temporarily forgot his fear as he made a mad dash to reach Minho first. 

A powerful flurry of air ripped through the chasm and caused Jisung to stumble over his feet as he struggled to move. Jisung’s clothes whipped around him as if they too were trying to hold him back but Jisung only gritted his teeth and pushed forward. The wind, distraught and mourning, howled in his ears.

Jisung reached Minho first and threw himself over the older boy just as the keiko reached them. Clenching his eyes shut, Jisung wrapped himself as tightly as he could to shield Minho from the freezing cold that engulfed them. 

_Please don’t leave me too._

A scream tore through the cavern and echoed through Jisung's skull as the air around them turned sharp and unforgiving. Jisung trembled- both from fear and from the cold- as he took a deep breath and focused on the delicate scent of fresh alpine air and rosewood. The warmth emanating from Minho's unconscious form was the only other thing that kept Jisung from losing his motivation to protect the boy beneath him.

After what seemed like ages, the wind suddenly stopped and the scream cut off to nothing. The silence rang loudly in Jisung's ear as he tentatively raised his head to view what had happened. The only proof that Jisung didn't conjure the keikos in his imagination was the thick, black fog that clung to the ground and the blood-chilling cold.

Jisung carefully peeled himself off of Minho and turned the older boy around gently in his arms. He released a breath Jisung didn’t know he held once he confirmed that yes, Minho was still alive. 

A careful hand trailed down Minho’s face as Jisung looked for any signs of harm. He traced Minho’s closed eyelid before he followed the gentle slope of his nose, then the curves of his lips. When he didn’t find anything wrong, Jisung cupped the side of his face. 

“Thank God you’re still here,” Jisung said to himself. 

Just as Jisung said those words, Minho’s eyelashes began to flutter as Minho regained consciousness. As if someone had jumpstarted his heart, the organ skipped a beat when Minho’s mismatched eyes found his. 

A smile cracked across Jisung’s dry lips. “Hey. Welcome back.” 

Minho groaned before he pushed himself off of Jisung’s lap and cradled his head. “Unfortunately, I am back.” 

“How are you feeling?” Jisung couldn’t stop smiling. 

Sending the younger an unimpressed look, Minho rolled out his shoulders and cracked his neck. “I feel like I was run over by an elephant.” 

Jisung shrugged. “Makes sense I guess.” 

“What’d I miss?” Minho glanced around, eyes fluttered as he tried to take in everything at once. 

Jisung let the older male recollect his bearings and watched as his eyes, wide and imploring, examined the aftermath. Minho’s face scrunched in disgust as he scanned the mother spider, and if anyone were to say that Jisung found it cute, Jisung would deny all accusations. 

It didn’t take long before Minho’s gaze eventually landed back on him. Even though Jisung was probably the least interesting thing in the chasm, Minho spent the most time evaluating him. They stared at each other for what seemed like hours until Minho moved first. Something vulnerable glistened in his eyes as he carefully grabbed Jisung’s chin to rotate his head. 

Even though Jisung didn’t dare to breathe, he could still make out the delicate fragrance of fresh mountain air and rosewood. Jisung stayed as still as he could until Minho was satisfied and content that Jisung was not injured. 

Minho dropped his hand. Jisung missed the warmth already. 

“You fucking stink.” Minho blurted aloud and shattered the delicate atmosphere around them. 

Jisung scoffed, offended, and crossed his arms over his chest. His entire left side was covered with the excretions from the mother spider which dried sticky and tacky. 

“I saved you and this is the thanks I get? I can’t believe I was worried about you!” 

“Aww, that's cute.” Minho crooned, an impish grin on his face. “Thanks for caring.” 

“Don’t make me regret it.” Jisung turned his face away and fought the burn in his cheeks. He probably wasn’t successful since Minho laughed as he rose on unsteady legs. 

Extending a hand, Minho’s face transitioned to something more serious before Jisung took the offered help. 

“Let’s get out of here.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


They had been walking for some time and nothing had happened so far. 

Well, beside their hands bumping against each other and the overwhelming urge to hold Minho’s hand, Jisung would say that the walk had been uneventful. 

The peacefulness, however, didn't last long when they rounded the corner and spotted the exit. The light from outside was nearly blinding- their eyes used to the dark nature of the cave. The air around them was no longer musty, but fresh and invigorating. 

“Look!” Jisung couldn’t quell the smile from his lips. “I think we’re almost out of here!” 

Minho reciprocated the smile and began to speed up. “Finally,” he breathed.

Jisung nearly felt like skipping, giddy from the prospect of freedom, but the thought quickly derailed when he felt a warm hand on his shoulder and suddenly he was stumbling backward. 

“Who the fuck are you?” 

Jisung could only stand dumbfounded as he stood behind the broad silhouette of Minho. His katanas, black and unforgiving, glistened in the poor light as Minho gestured towards the person before him. 

How in the world were there two of them?

“Answer the question,” Minho number two growled. 

The first Minho only stared back unwavering, eyebrows pulled close together. “Jisung, be careful.” He ignored the question. “He’s a keiko.” 

“I’m not the keiko,” Minho number two said slowly, “You’re the keiko.” 

In one smooth motion, Minho number one crouched into a defensive stance and unsheathed his katanas. 

Before Jisung could so much as to even blink, both were already moving. The sound of metal against metal rang through the air as they both fought to end the other. They danced between each other’s swings, successfully confusing Jisung as to who was number one and who was number two. 

“Stop,” Jisung tried to call out but his voice came out weak. He knew he had to stop the two of them before the real Minho got hurt. “I said stop!”

Blood pounded loudly in Jisung's ears as he struggled to come up with a way to stop the boys before him. With a shaky hand and no thoughts in his mind, Jisung drew his gun and sent a warning shot. The bullet buried itself in the small space between the two Minhos and successfully paused their movements. 

Pulling out his other gun, he aimed each gun at the space between their eyebrows and met their gaze steadily. “It doesn’t matter what you say,” Jisung breathed heavily, suddenly angry. “I’ll kill the keiko myself.” 

Jisung’s heart pounded in his chest like a wild bird in a small cage. He could barely hear his own thoughts over the blood rushing through his ears. He had to get this right otherwise he would be the reason why Minho was dead. 

“Jisung-” The Minho on the left began, “if you trust me, you’ll kill him.” He gestured to the other Minho with a tilt of his head.

Gritting his teeth, Jisung could only glance nervously between the two of them. Sweat beaded on his temple as he desperately tried to find at least one difference between them but they looked exactly the same. If Jisung didn’t know better, he would’ve thought that he was high on some weird shroom. 

“Look- I know we got off on the wrong foot and I know you probably hate me since I tried to assassinate you some time ago, but I regret it, I really do.” The Minho on the right pleaded. “Jisung, I promise to make it up to you. Just know that I would do anything to protect you and that’s what I’m doing right now. I can’t fulfill my promise if you kill me.” 

“Shut the hell up,” left Minho rolled his eyes. “Stop spouting bullshit.”

The Minho on the right sent the other a glare. “What exactly did I say that was bullshit? You know better than anyone else that I fucking lov-”

“I said shut up!” The other Minho suddenly shouted, ears burning red. 

“What? You already know so what’s wrong with filling in Jisung too?” 

“Both of you need to stop talking right now!” Jisung yelled. 

The boy on the right barely blinked at Jisung's sudden's outburst whereas the Minho on the left jumped slightly, startled. Jisung, never one to raise his voice in anger, must have been effective in stopping them since they both dropped their argument. 

Jisung’s hands shook as he took a ragged breath in. He needed to make a choice soon otherwise he might end up killing both of them out of sheer frustration. 

He closed his eyes for a brief second and tried to filter through the millions of thoughts that swam in his foggy mind. With what seemed to be the weight of the world on his shoulders, Jisung dropping his right arm and opened his eyes, determined. 

They stared at each other for what seemed like an eternity before Jisung steadied his arm. 

“Do it,” the left Minho didn’t waver. His eyes, cold and unforgiving, burned holes in Jisung's soul. “Kill me,” he dared.

Jisung could hear his own erratic heartbeats. 

“Yes, Jisung,” Minho on the right began, face breaking out into a freakish smile. “That-”

Without looking and without a second thought, Jisung swung his arm to the right and placed a bullet between his eyes. For a brief second, it was eerily quiet after the shot rang through the air and Jisung was starting to believe that maybe he had picked wrong after all. 

However, not a second later, a deafening screech ripped through the air. The corpse, now face down on the cold stone ground began to warp as if a creature below its skin was trying to claw out. Jisung could only stare in horror, hands clenched over his ears, as the keiko burst into a freezing cold fog. 

After a few minutes, Jisung dragged his eyes up to find Minho already looking back at him. 

“How’d you know which one to kill?” 

“You would never give up an opportunity to die.” Jisung laughed without any humor. “Plus, he was talking too much.”

Minho returned the dry laugh. “You’re not wrong.” 

After a small shake of his head, Minho was the first to move between the two of them. He brushed past Jisung with a gentle knock of their shoulders and a breeze of morning dew and rosewood.

A fresh wave of exhaustion washed over Jisung as he suddenly realized that he did it. His shoulders dropped and an exhale escaped from his chapped lips. He glanced down at his hands to watch how they shook.

“Are you coming or what?” 

Jisung jumped at the sudden question and snapped back to reality. Minho stood a little bit away with a weird look on his face when he realized that Jisung wasn’t following him. He stretched his hand out with a constipated expression and for a brief second, Jisung didn’t know what he was doing before the realization suddenly clicked in his mind.

“Ye-yeah.” Jisung ignored how his voice cracked as he took Minho’s outstretched hand. 

Jisung’s hand seemed to fit perfectly in Minho’s larger, warmer hand, and the prince couldn't help but pray that Minho couldn’t tell how Jisung’s hand quivered in his. Swallowing his nerves, Jisung decided to simply ignore how nice it felt and how he wished that they could do this more often. 

They fell into a comfortable silence as they approached the blinding exit. Jisung appreciated how Minho was never the type to need pointless small talk to fill the silence and instead welcomed it willingly. It allowed Jisung to take his time to calm his frantic thoughts and collect his composure. 

Jisung’s eyes burned as they finally left the cave and his eyes struggled to adapt to the influx of light. An easy breeze brushed past them as Jisung took a lungful of the clean air. 

“Where now?” Jisung kept his eyes closed and instead focused on the rustling of leaves and the faint rosewood next to him. 

“How am I supposed to know?” Minho huffed without any real anger. 

An easy smile tugged at the corner of Jisung’s lips as he imagined Minho pouting. _Cute._

“Aren’t you supposed to know everything?” Jisung turned his head to where he assumed Minho was and gave the older boy a teasing grin. The sun warmed his eyelids. 

It wasn’t long before Minho moved in front of Jisung to block the sunlight from hitting his face. Jisung, however, didn’t realize just how close the older boy was until he felt Minho’s warm breath fan across his cupid’s bow. 

“I’m dumb as shit.”

A second of silence passed before Jisung couldn’t hold his laughter in anymore. It spilled past his lips like how water boils out of a small pot. He cracked his eyes open just in time to see Minho pull away, eyes crinkled into crescent moons as he laughed too. 

Jisung wanted to burn the sight into his retinas forever and be able to see it even with his eyes closed. He wanted to commit the sound of Minho’s laughter, light and twinkling, to his memory. 

“Let’s go,” Minho said after their laughter subsided. “I don’t know where to go but anywhere would be better than here.” 

Jisung could only nod his agreement before Minho tugged their entwined hands and led them into the forest before them. 

He couldn’t think of anything else besides how rough Minho’s hand was and how he managed to hold Jisung’s hand with the utmost care. 

“Look, a rabbit,” Minho said and unknowingly distracted Jisung from his thoughts. 

Jisung looked and indeed, there was a rabbit. Small, brown, and fluffy.

“It’s cute,” Jisung mumbled. 

Minho didn’t say anything before detangled their hands and left Jisung to miss the warmth by himself. Jisung, however, didn’t have much time to think about it before Minho carefully approached the rabbit and swooped it into his grasp in one fluid motion. 

“What the fuck?” 

“What?” Minho tilted his head as he stared wide-eyed at Jisung. His lower lip protruded slightly. “Do you wanna pet it or not?” 

Opting to ignore Minho’s unconventional way of treating the animal, Jisung reached out and offered the rabbit his hand to smell. The rabbit twitched in Minho’s grasp but eventually calmed down. Once it was apparent that the animal trusted Jisung a bit more, Jisung began to stroke the rabbit. 

“It’s adorable,” Jisung cooed. Jisung was very much aware of how Minho watched him closely and could practically feel Minho’s eyes on him, but Jisung chose to ignore the older in favor of picking up the rabbit. Jisung held the rabbit up to his face and stared into its endless eyes. “You’re cute.”

“Alright, that’s enough,” Minho said suddenly. 

One moment, the rabbit was perched peacefully between Jisung’s hands, then the next moment, the rabbit was tossed to the ground.

“Minho!” Jisung pouted, “don’t just drop it like that.”

“Too late,” Minho grumbled before he grabbed Jisung’s wrist and began to walk at a brisk pace. 

“What did that rabbit ever do to you?” Jisung could only stumble behind Minho when the older boy didn’t slow down. 

The tops of Minho’s ears reddened when Minho responded but Jisung couldn’t make out his words. 

“What’d you say?” 

“Iwasjealous.”

“What?”

The forest broke to reveal a lazy river, the water glimmered in the sunlight, and Jisung would’ve found the sight beautiful if he didn’t have an embarrassed Minho in front of him. Minho turned sharply when they approached the river and followed it upstream. 

“I said-” Minho took a deep breath as if the effort of doing so was enough to pain him. “-we need to go and you were taking too long.”

“No, that’s not what you said.” Jisung dug his heels into the gravel, which successfully stopped Minho from dragging him ahead. 

Minho’s arm yanked backward and caused his whole body to swing around from the momentum of the motion. Jisung used the opportunity to snatch his arm away and place his hands on his hips. 

“You’re jealous.”

“I am not jealous.”

Jisung couldn’t believe his ears and scoffed at Minho’s blatant lie. The older boy’s cheekbones and ears were a rosy shade and he couldn’t meet Jisung’s eyes. 

“Just admit it, Minho! You can’t even look me in the eyes.” 

A smug grin stretched across Jisung’s face when Minho balked and shifted his gaze slowly to look at Jisung.

“I am not jealous,” Minho repeated slowly and carefully. 

“Are too.”

“Am not!” 

Minho whirled around and crossed his arms over his chest before he began to stalk away. Jisung couldn’t hold back his laugh.

“Minho, don’t sulk. It’s okay.” Jisung felt light, giddy that he was able to get a reaction from Minho. 

Minho paused in his tracks before he snapped around suddenly and Jisung’s laughter died in his throat when the glint in Minho’s eyes looked slightly murderous. A tense second passed before Minho suddenly took off and charged towards Jisung with his arms outstretched. 

“Wait-” Jisung managed to say before he found strong arms wrapped around his waist. Minho giggled as he tossed Jisung over his shoulder and Jisung could only release a soft, surprised gasp. He watched helplessly as Minho waded through the water to reach the deep part of the river before he was flung away from Minho's warm body and met the water with a slap of cold. A shuddering gasp left Jisung’s lips as he found himself waist-deep in the river. 

“Fuck!” Jisung hissed and scrunched his shoulders to his neck when the chilly water lapped against the nape of his neck. “It’s so cold!”

“What’s wrong?” Minho laughed, “You’re not sulking, right Princess?” 

Jisung could feel the heat rising to his cheeks at the pet name. “I am not sulking, you’re sulking.” 

“If you’re not sulking then why are you so embarrassed?” A cheeky grin stretched across Minho’s face and revealed his straight teeth. “Let me help you with that.” 

Before Jisung could so much as protest, he found a large hand grip the back of his head and dunk his face below the chilly water. He sputtered indulgently when Minho pulled his head back up after a second. 

Water dripped from Jisung’s face and his fringe covered his eyes. He spat out the water in his mouth before wiping the excess water away. 

“Feel better?” Minho had the audacity to smile innocently. 

“You tried to drown me.” Jisung gasped. “That’s high treason. I ought to have you killed.” 

“Oh, is it? I didn’t realize.” Arms crossed over the expanse of his broad chest, Minho’s smile turned mischievous. “I guess you should punish me.”

The heat from before was rapidly making its reappearance, but before Minho could comment on his reddening cheeks, Jisung splashed the older boy.

“Die!” Jisung yelled as he sent wave after wave of water. Most of the time, the water never made it far enough for Minho to get hit by it, but when it did, Jisung felt accomplished. 

After a while, Jisung’s arms grew heavy and he could no longer keep up his relentless attacks. Minho used his arms to block most of the water so when the older boy lowered his arms, he was mostly dry. 

“Are you dead yet?” Jisung asked between puffs of air. 

A saccharine smile splayed across Minho’s lips as he responded with a monotonous voice. “Unfortunately, I am still alive.” 

“Damn,” Jisung swore, hands on his hips. 

“It’s my turn to retaliate.” 

“No, it’s not-“ 

In his hurry to back away from the onslaught of water, Jisung’s foot slipped on a smooth rock and caused him to choke on his words. He subconsciously closed his eyes and felt weightless for a mere second before a strong arm wrapped around his middle and a warm hand found purchase between his shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay?” 

Minho’s warm breath fanned across his lips as the familiar scent of morning dew and rosewood overwhelmed Jisung. Cracking his eyes slowly open, Jisung was met with striking eyes, worry swimming in Minho’s contrasting irises. The sun basked Minho in their warm rays, causing his skin to resemble honey, and thanks to their close proximity, Jisung could make out a faint scar across his left eye. 

_Has that always been there?_

Minho’s earring glinted in the sunlight when he tilted his head. Confusion soon joined the worry in his eyes before Jisung realized that he should probably answer instead of gawking like a fish. 

“I guess I can pardon your murder attempt.” Jisung found himself saying in lieu of an answer. He could barely form any functional thought. How could he when they were so close that their noses touch whenever either of them so much as breathes? “You did save me after all.”

Relief caused Minho to relax, his hold on Jisung loosened just a bit. “Then I should be rewarded, right? I did save the Crowned Prince of Korea.”

“Right,” Jisung couldn’t quite find his breath. “What should your reward be?”

Jisung’s tongue flicked out momentarily to moisten his dry lips. Minho watched the motion and his eyes lingered on his lips even when his tongue had long since disappeared. Minho dragged his gaze back to Jisung’s eyes and the intensity of his gaze made Jisung take a shuddering breath in. Minho’s eyes, sharp and daring, combined with his lips, slightly parted and red, made Jisung feel like he was about to be devoured like hopeless prey.

“I think you already know,” Minho said with a low voice. As he attempted to breathe, Jisung could only watch helplessly when Minho’s pupils dilated. 

Minho’s grip on Jisung tightened and Jisung became all too aware of how their chests pressed together and how Minho’s muscles flexed under his clothes. Jisung could only hope that Minho couldn’t feel how fast his heart was. 

The world seemed to still as they stared at each other, eyes imploring and silently waiting.

For what exactly? Jisung didn’t really know but desire hummed under his skin, alive and electric. It made his body shake in anticipation, trembling fingers clutched the cotton material of Minho’s dark shirt.

Jisung couldn’t hear the melodies from the nearby birds or see the slow-moving water around them, numb to everything except the beautiful boy in front of him and the soothing scent of fresh morning dew, clean alpine air, and faint rosewood. 

A lonely drop of water rolled down Minho’s temple and over his cheekbone, catching Jisung’s attention for a fraction. Without thinking about it, Jisung reached to wipe it away. 

_Maybe I did splash him._

Jisung hesitated, hand next to Minho’s face as the older boy only watch Jisung carefully, long eyelashes fluttering as he blinked. He didn’t move and Jisung could feel his warmth radiating from his body. 

He laughed, short and fleeting, eyes crinkling into crescent moons. 

“What?” Jisung couldn’t help how the corner of his lips tugged upwards, mirth clung to his word. He could barely control the electricity thrumming under his skin and the want resting heavily on his fingertips. 

“Nothing,” Minho leaned back, disconnecting their chests. Jisung missed the contact almost spontaneously. “It’s just-”

Before Minho could say another word more, the older boy suddenly whipped his head to the side and sneezed. It wasn’t that it was loud or anything, but the sudden noise shattered the delicate moment between them and made Jisung jump in surprise. 

“You alright, Minho?”

Minho sniffled and rubbed his nose sheepishly. “Yeah, I’m fine. Maybe we should get out of the water.”

“Yeah, probably.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Thank the heavens above,” Jisung sighed as an easy breeze ruffled their hair. 

Minho knew what the younger sighed about. The sun had finally dipped below the horizon which gave them a well-deserved break from the harsh sun rays. They had been walking for a large majority of the day and Minho couldn’t wait to rest. 

The silence that blanketed them was thick with something Minho couldn’t quite decipher. They never addressed what had happened in the river but Minho would be a fool to ignore how for some odd reason, he enjoyed it. 

Well, Minho is most definitely a fool.

“We should find a place to rest soon,” Minho mumbled as he looked around for a possible location, but their surroundings looked the same.

“Why don’t we just stop here?” Jisung stopped walking to lie on the grass. “Everything looks the same anyway.” 

Minho sent the younger an unimpressed look but Jisung already had his eyes closed. His arms and legs spread out to resemble a starfish as he laid there perfectly content. Jisung’s loose shirt bunched at his waist, revealing a thin slither of smooth skin. 

Sighing, Minho sat down next to him. “It seems like you’ve made up your mind already.”

Jisung hummed after a beat as if he was already falling asleep. “Yeah, it’s comfy here. The grass is really nice, high quality.”

Minho snorted before he fixed Jisung’s shirt. “It’s just grass.” 

“Yeah, but it's _nice_ grass. I can feel the difference, I swear.” 

“I think your exhaustion is getting to you.” Minho reached to play with the stray strands of Jisung’s brown hair, for some reason wanting to touch the younger even though Minho was never one for physical contact. It flared around his head like a halo made from chocolate. 

“Maybe,” Jisung suddenly rolled over, scaring Minho when the younger rested his head atop of Minho’s hand. Jisung opened his eyes and stole Minho’s breath away from the intensity of his gaze. Jisung’s eyes, green and lively, seemed to glow despite the low light around them. “You should lie down too.”

Minho really wanted to but he knew that it would be in the best interest of both of them if he didn’t. He shook his head and looked away before he could see the disappointment in Jisung’s face. “No, it’s fine. I’ll take the first shift so you can rest.” 

The grass rustled around them as Jisung quickly pulled himself to a sitting position. “What first shift?” 

Minho immediately regretted his decision to look back when he found Jisung staring wide-eyed at him, a pout on his lips. Jisung’s slender hands held Minho’s heart yet the prince didn't even realize. Minho wanted to laugh.

_I am a fool._

“To watch and make sure that nothing tries to eat us in the middle of the night.” 

“Nothing is going to eat us.” Jisung rolled his eyes. “Did you see any hostile animals the entire time we walked?” 

“No, but that doesn’t mean that there isn’t anything dangerous here.” 

“Ugh, lame.” Jisung flopped back to his starfish position and ignored how his hand landed in Minho’s lap. 

“Stop complaining. Be grateful that I’m letting you sleep first.” 

“Shut up,” Jisung groaned and moved his other hand to cover his eyes. “I’m going to sleep now.” 

Minho laughed quietly to himself before leaning back on his palms. The final drops of sunlight had long since disappeared and Minho welcomed the rising moon and the twinkling stars. The full moon provided enough light for Minho to see a good distance away. 

After a long length of time, Minho glanced down to watch Jisung’s chest slowly rise and fall, the symptoms of sleep, before Minho turned to observe the hand in his lap. 

Jisung’s fingers were slightly longer than Minho’s but Minho’s palms were wider. A few calluses lined the palm of Jisung’s hand, most likely from training, but his hands were pretty smooth, definitely not as rough as Minho’s hands. 

Moving to play with the younger’s fingers, Minho traced a blue vein down Jisung’s arm before his attention was snapped away when the leaves nearby rustled. 

“What was that?” Jisung suddenly sprang up from where he laid just mere seconds ago. Blades of grass stuck to the back of his head as his gaze flicked around with uncertainty. 

“You were awake the whole time?” 

Jisung’s cheeks rapidly reddened and couldn’t meet Minho’s gaze. “Uh, I just woke up.” 

“Right.” 

Minho sent the younger a look, hopefully conveying that he didn’t believe him before the leaves rustled again. 

Turning to where they heard the noise, Minho slowly began to rise. A beat of silence elapsed before the rustling could be heard again, but louder and closer than before. 

Minho unsheathed his swords and waited for the creature to reveal itself. 

The bushes moved once more before out came a small fox-like creature. 

“It’s adorable!” Jisung gasped. 

The creature, Minho couldn’t help but think, reminded Minho of a ferret but he knew it was the fox Yuta told them about. With its thin, long body and small features, it seemed like it would be able to fit through anything. The creature was the color of a rusted pipe and had pointed ears and sharp eyes. For some reason, it reminded Minho of Jeongin. 

“But is it dangerous?” Minho narrowed his eyes at the seemingly innocent creature and used his sword to point at it. “Must be the Kuda-gitsunes Yuta Hyung told us about.”

“I’m sure it isn’t dangerous, so put your swords away,” Jisung’s smile was blinding but the look in his eyes was a little wild when he gestured to Minho’s katanas. 

Minho swallowed his protest and instead carefully kept his eyes on the animal. It slowly emerged from the bushes and approached them with small leaps. Jisung crooned before offering a hand for the fox to smell. 

Jisung laughed when the small fox slid under his hand for Jisung to pet. He looked up from his crouched position, lower lip wobbling as his hand tried to reach every available surface of the creature. 

“Look at this little baby.” Jisung looked startlingly close to crying and Minho just felt awkward. “Pet it, Minho.”

“Um, I’m good.” Minho scrunched his nose when the fox began to nibble on Jisung’s index finger. 

“Aw, are you hungry?” Jisung sang as he scratched under the chin of the fox. “Minho, do you have any food for the fox?” 

Minho, prepared to flat out say no, choked on his words when Jisung redirected his attention back to him, eyes wide and hopeful. A little pang shot through Minho’s heart from the awestruck look in Jisung’s glimmering eyes. And the fox in question, fuck that bastard, also turned to look at Minho as if it was silently bragging for stealing Jisung from him. 

“I think I might have something.” Minho began to search through his tactical vest to find anything the fox can eat and luckily he didn’t end up empty-handed. 

Holding out the purplish-red fruit, Minho offered the plum to the fox. The fox sniffed the fruit once, twice, before snatching the plum out of Minho’s grasp. He watched as it took a tentative bite then began to hurriedly eat after it deemed the fruit worthy. 

“How cute,” Jisung pouted while Minho sent a silent thanks to Granny. “Oh look, there’s another one!” 

Minho turned to see that yet another had popped out of the bushes. Minho fought back a groan when Jisung turned back to Minho and flashed him a smile. 

Wordlessly, Minho reached for another plum and handed it to the prince, but instead of Jisung grabbing it, the fox snatched the fruit. 

Then just like before, more and more foxes began to pop out of the bushes until there was six total. They looked at Minho expectantly and he groaned as he pulled the plums out of his pockets as quickly as he could, but he stilled when he looked at the last fox apologetically. 

“I don’t have anymore.” Why was he talking to the Kuda-gitsune? Jisung really rubbed off on him. 

The fox’s eyes bore into Minho's, making him feel guilty for some odd reason. Maybe he should’ve taken the last plum Granny gave him. 

Then slowly, as if Minho had committed the gravest sin in fox history, the other five Kuda-gitsunes turned to look at Minho. 

“Sorry?” 

“I’m sure we can all share,” Jisung didn’t look troubled at all, a striking contrast to how Minho felt. 

The foxes didn’t spare Jisung another glance before suddenly smoke began to appear out of nowhere and envelope the furry creatures. Without a second to spare, the foxes were replaced in a puff of smoke with people half the height of Minho. 

They all wore the same clothing- a simple white top with large sleeves and a red skirt-like bottom piece attached high on the waist. They wore a white mask with fox ears decorated with red markings resembling their coats. Their rust-colored hair was tied at the high point of their heads, ponytail fluffy and messy. 

By instinct, Minho reached for his katanas, but he didn’t get far before three of the Kuda-gitsunes were in his personal space. Two of them grabbed an arm each while the other reached for his neck. Despite their small stature, Minho had a hard time shaking off their grasp. 

“Get the fuck off me,” Minho hissed through clenched teeth, a bit of spit dribbled from the corner of his mouth. He thrashed in an attempt to shake them off, but it only made their grip tighter. 

Minho’s head spun as he tried to get some sort of air to his lungs but the hand around his neck was relentless. Movement from the corner of his eye caught Minho’s attention and he suddenly went still as his blood ran cold. 

He could only watch helplessly as one of the masked strangers struck Jisung in multiple locations with two fingers. Jisung’s eyes were blown wide as his knees buckled and a different person caught him. 

“Don’t touch him!” A surge of anger washed over Minho, causing him to see red. His anger must have startled one of the masked strangers since the person to his right loosened their grip just enough for Minho to snatch his arm away and backhand slap the mask off the person. 

A young boy who must’ve been around Emily’s age stared at Minho as if he couldn’t believe that Minho was able to touch him. His mouth opened to a small ‘o’ as he blinked owlishly.

He gasped, clutching his cheek before Minho felt sharp jabs across his body then overwhelming numbness. 

Minho fell to the forest floor like a large sack of potatoes, hitting the ground with a thud. He watched helplessly, not even able to scream, as one of them shrugged Jisung onto their shoulder. An emotion Minho recognized all too well flashed across Jisung’s eyes before they disappeared into the woods, closely followed by the others. 

Minho seethed in anger as he laid on the damp earth and cursed everything he could think of for making him _so fucking useless_. How was Minho supposed to kill the king if he could kill six kids?

He couldn’t move any fiber of his being no matter how hard he tried. He couldn’t even form any tangible words, only crude babbles that more closely resemble monkey grunts than actual words.

He laid there for what seemed like forever, thinking of ways to get his revenge and simmering in his anger, until the moon was high in the sky. 

Slowly but surely, feeling began to return to Minho’s body starting from his fingers and toes then the rest of the appendages until he could finally push himself off the damp ground. He groaned as he stretched his sore body, a few joints cracked. 

“Those foxes are going to get what’s coming to them,” Minho grumbled to himself as he started to walk in the direction the Kuda-gitsunes had disappeared into. 

He made slow progress as he limped, his legs tingled as blood began to flow again. The world was still around Minho as if it was scared of him and his anger. No animals scattered around and even the wind held its breath as Minho trudged across the moss-covered floor. His anger simmered beneath the surface of his skin, rippling through his body as it attempted to break free, but Minho would not let it. It wasn’t time. 

After a long time of walking, Minho caught wind of a familiar scent of spring oranges and fresh mint, sweet yet refreshing. Something deep within Minho’s body sparked alive at the faint and fleeting scent but it was enough for Minho to pick up his speed into a run, desperate to get his Jisung back. 

His pace quickened as the familiar scent slowly became stronger. His heart pounded in his chest, fast like a wild bird in a cramped cage. Soon after, Minho broke into a sprint when he knew he was close, so fucking close. 

Breaking through the dense foliage, Minho was greeted to a temple. It was three stories tall, the long finial on top scraped the clouds above, and the layers of the structure were small and square, but the roofs were large and sloping. The red paint was a stark contrast with the grey roofs that Minho could clearly see despite only having the moon to illuminate the temple. 

He took a deep breath and approached the temple as he drew out his dual katanas. They glinted softly in the low light as Minho straightened his spine and exhaled slowly. 

A faint rustling from the bushes to his left caused Minho to snap his head to the noise and drop into a defensive stance. He blinked before moving purely on instinct, raising his sword in time to block a bamboo shinai. Splinters of the sword flew in the air but Minho paid it no mind; instead, he focused on the masked figure and how they shifted, ready to swing again. 

Minho used one of his katanas to block the incoming attack then used the other to swing towards the attacker. Unfortunately, the Kuda-gitsune shifted so that Minho only grazed the side of their rib cage. The cut, however, was deep enough for them to grunt and stumble back as a hand desperately tried to slow the blood dripping from their wound. 

A quick movement from the corner of his eye brought his attention to a new opponent who snuck up from behind. Minho leaned away then pivoted so he could thrust both blades into the belly of the newcomer. Blood sprayed around them, splattering against the Kuda-gitsune’s white shirt and Minho’s black clothing as their shinai slashed the air next to Minho. 

The air from the force of their attack sent Minho’s hair flying, but it barely made a difference to Minho when he kicked the body off his swords. He turned and with a flourish, he sliced his original opponent’s head clean off their shoulder. The head hit the ground with a wet thud and the body fell in front of Minho, blood gushed from the wound. Minho walked over it and entered the temple without another glance. 

Minho had half the mind to be thoughtful of the blood that dripped onto the stone floor, but Minho honestly did not give a shit. If they did not want their beloved temple to be dirty, then they should not have taken Jisung from Minho in the first place. 

A scowl made its way onto Minho’s lips when a short figure stood above the stairs that led to the next level of the temple. 

_How annoying._

The Kuda-gitsune jumped from their position to land a few feet away from the first step, the stone tiles cracked from the impact. Launching toward Minho, they pulled a fist back and swung before Minho managed to dodge. The punch connected to Minho’s cheekbone, causing him to hiss and stagger back. 

“You bitch,” Minho grunted before spitting out blood from when he bit the inside of his cheek. 

The Kuda-gitsune, much faster than Minho realized, lunged forward, knee outstretched before it connected with Minho’s torso. He gasped as all air was knocked out of his lungs before the stranger pivoted in the air and swung their other leg. 

The heel of the Kuda-gitsune connected to the side of Minho’s face, sending him sprawling across the cold tiles with a curse. The sharp clattering of his swords hitting the floor ricocheted throughout the temple as Minho pushed himself onto his forearms. 

Minho blinked the stars from his vision before a shadow wrapped around Minho’s fallen form. 

The shadow lifted its arm, a knife in its hands before it started to descend quickly. 

Rolling away, the knife embedded itself into the tiles with enough force to send web-like cracks across the floor. Minho’s reflection flashed across the smooth surface of the blade and allowed him to see the wild look in his eyes, anger made his facial features stretch thin. Minho rose to his feet and swung his knee forward, connecting with the soft flesh of the Kuda-gitsune’s stomach. 

They grunted before flying through the air and landing in the middle of the square room. Without a second to spare, Minho grabbed the katana closest to him and ran towards the fallen figure. He raised the blade in the air, no sympathy nor hesitation clouded his thoughts as he brought the sharp blade down to impale their heart. 

The Kuda-gitsune suddenly grabbed the blade as it was mere inches away from their clothed chest, blood oozed from where the blade cut into their fleshy palms. 

“You fucked with the wrong person,” Minho spat before twisting the blade sideways. Their grip slipped and Minho plunged his katana deep into their chest. 

They coughed up blood once, twice, before their body went limp. Minho twisted the blade just to make sure, then pulled it out in one tug. Crimson blood splattered across the grey tiles, a gruesome juxtaposition, but Minho didn’t blink at the sight of it. 

His anger still thrummed under his skin like a dormant animal stirring awake after hibernation. It made his fingertips tingle and his breath come out in shallow puffs. 

Minho ran a heavy hand through his hair before he stepped over the body and picked up his other katana near the first step of the staircase. He didn’t look back as he started to ascend the stairs, his heavy footsteps signaled his arrival. 

Once Minho reached the top step, a knife whizzed through the air and impaled the wall behind Minho. Minho took a deep breath to calm the anger within his veins as the shell of his ear began to sting. 

Minho wasn’t really sure who moved first, him or the three people before him, but suddenly they all were in the middle of the small room. 

As the first shinai swung for his face, Minho realized that they weren’t really all that different. 

They all were fighting to protect; the Kuda-gitsunes fought for a treasure they’ve stolen, Minho fought for what was rightfully his.

Crossing his katanas to form an X shape, the shinai came to a forceful stop between his blades. Minho stared into the soulless eyes of the fox mask before he pushed the shinai away with a grunt and gritted teeth. 

Sweat rolled down Minho’s temple as he swung his left sword into a high arc, slicing the shinai cleanly in half, before thrusting his right blade into the stranger’s stomach. They gasped a shallow and wet breath before Minho twisted his blade to the right and sliced through the side of their body. 

They fell to the floor with a heavy thud but Minho paid it no mind, too busy dodging the next attack to care. The shinai sliced through the air where Minho stood mere seconds before as Minho took this opportunity to maneuver closer and decapitate the stranger in one clean arc. 

He turned to watch the third and last masked stranger. The Kuda-gitsune glared, unnerved, amongst the bleeding and dead bodies of their companions. An ache, a sensation Minho was all too familiar with, clung heavily to his muscles. Minho breathed heavily, the familiar scent of spring oranges and clean mint tickled his nostrils and only served as a reminder as to why he was here. It alleviated some of his soreness and resuscitated his motivation.

The silence, only broken by Minho’s breathing, was loud in his ears. The moonlight filtered through the open windows behind Minho, illuminating his opponent in an off-white light, making them look pale and unnatural. The mask seemed to smirk at Minho as if taunting him, challenging him to make the first careless move. 

Minho was never one to turn down a challenge. 

With a noiseless exhale, Minho lunged forward, both blades aimed at the Kuda-gitsune. 

At the last possible moment, the stranger stepped out of the way, leaving Minho to cut the empty air before him. Irritation flashed through Minho’s body as he twisted out of the way to block the oncoming attack. The force of the shinai was enough to send Minho staggering back, dropping to one knee. 

Gritting his teeth, Minho shoved the shinai away, which caused the Kuda-gitsune to take a few steps back. Minho used this opportunity to charge forward, thrusting his right katana towards the exposed torso of his opponent. Before Minho’s black blades could make contact with the Kuda-gitsune’s fleshy body, they turned just in time to avoid Minho’s katana. 

The thin, silky material of the Kuda-gitsune’s hakama tore along their ribs, revealing pale skin and red markings. 

Minho didn’t have time to wonder about the strange tattoos before the Kuda-gitsune whirled around and swung their shinai toward Minho. 

As if time had slowed down, Minho watched in slow motion as the shinai cut through the air. It was too low for Minho to duck, so he braced his knees and pushed his body upwards, twisting in the air as the shinai narrowly missed the tip of his nose. 

Minho landed safely on his feet as the Kuda-gitsune took a second to recover. The second, however, was enough for Minho to swing his left sword up into the air then down into the Kuda-gitsune’s boney shoulder. 

A sharp cry cut through the tense air as the Kuda-gitsune fell to a knee, using their shinai for support. Minho didn’t waste any more time before his second sword connected with their other shoulder and the Kuda-gitsune collapsed onto their chest and exposed their back. 

Minho placed a heavy foot on the back of their head. They grunted as a crack resonated throughout the small room, their mask breaking from the impact, and tried to push off the floor but to no avail. Hardly blinking, Minho buried both blades into the body before him. 

The Kuda-gitsune stilled all at once before Minho pulled his swords out, revealing two clean gashes to the stone floor. 

Blood dripped from his katanas, bright red against stygian black, and onto the grey tiles. The room was still except for the viscous blood pooling around the three corpses and Minho’s rising chest. 

Minho walked up the remaining staircase, bloody footprints trailed behind him, and willed his heart to slow down. 

The third and last floor of the temple had no walls. Instead high pillars, red like the blood on Minho’s swords, stood in each corner and supported the sloping ceiling. The middle of the floor was elevated slightly and in the middle of it was Jisung lying on his side and a tall woman next to him. 

Minho’s heart slowed and nearly stopped entirely.

_He has to be alive._

The woman was easily taller than Minho despite how she sat next to Jisung, a nimble hand carding through Jisung’s warm brown hair. She was pale, unnaturally so, and bore the same red markings on her face like those on the masks of the Kuda-gitsunes. They disappeared under her merlot-red hakama only to reappear on her exposed forearms. 

The hand that wasn’t touching Jisung held a long wooden smoking pipe, but instead of tobacco, incense gently bellowed from the round end of the pipe. 

She turned to Minho and appraised him under a collected gaze. Her fox eyes were framed with dark, thick lashes, which fluttered as she blinked once. Her hair, piled neatly into a complicated bun rested against the crown of her head.

“Who are you?” Minho demanded before bracing to attack. _And what did you do to him?_

“You made it.” Her voice, otherwise devoid of any emotion, almost seemed sardonic with the way her thin lips curled upwards. 

She rose on long legs and approached Minho with grace no earthly creature could possess. As she stepped down from the raised platform, the incense from her pipe began to curl and grow thick around her until it was nearly opaque. Then all at once, it dispersed to reveal pointed ears atop of her head and nine fluffy tails flickering behind her. They were stark white, a startling contrast to her dark clothing and ebony hair. 

“Don’t get any closer,” Minho hissed as he raised his katanas, ready to strike if necessary. 

“Oh please.” She rolled her eyes, which Minho could see were entirely black before she flicked a well-manicured hand and Minho’s katanas went flying in opposite directions. 

Minho could only stare wide-eyed as his katanas clattered loudly.

“Don’t be such a _beast._ ” She hissed.

Minho’s blood ran cold as her words sent a shudder down his spine. Something dormant in Minho suddenly snapped and reared its ugly head. 

Then all at once, his freezing blood turned fiery as the anger from before gripped his heart with a clawed hand and squeezed. His body shook as his ill-concealed anger coursed through his veins and clouded his vision with red. He could hardly think. 

“ _Me?_ A beast?” Minho scoffed and curled his hands into fists. “You’re the beast here.”

“I’m not here to hurt you,” she said as she stopped before Minho. She was easily eight feet tall and Minho had to crane his head back to look her in the eyes. “Jisung is a lovely boy and he’s currently resting. I did not hurt him either.”

“I don’t believe you.” Minho narrowed his eyes at the tall figure and resisted the urge to spit on her.

A sigh, quiet yet full of irritation, slipped past her red lips. “It matters not if you believe me or not. The outcome is the same with or without your belief.” 

Minho gritted his teeth and reached for his knife. This time, she didn’t spend his blade flying away, and instead, another irritated sigh left the incorporeal being. And again, with the rolls of her eyes, she flicked her hand once more and Minho felt a sharp tug. It was as if a large hand had reached into Minho’s chest, wrapped around his soul, and pulled him forward. 

When Minho blinked, he was standing right in front of Jisung. 

“Fine. See for yourself.” 

Without another word from the lady, Minho dropped to his knees and could only think of the boy in front of him. He cradled Jisung’s face in his hands and waited for the boy to take a deep breath in as his own heart hammered between his ribs.

As Jisung’s chest expanded from the breath he took, all anger from before was quickly forgotten. It seeped out of Minho’s body only to leave him with relief and exhaustion. He ran a gentle hand down the side of Jisung’s face before quickly evaluating the rest of him. Once satisfied that Jisung wasn’t injured, Minho turned to face the tall lady. 

She watched without any emotion on her slender face as her tails flicked behind her. 

“Why did you take him?” Minho asked. 

“I had to test to see if you’re worthy.” She responded easily. 

Minho resisted the urge to roll his eyes. What is with everyone testing him? 

“And am I worthy of your blessing?” 

“So far, yes, but there is more that you need to do.” 

Minho couldn’t help it when he groaned and muttered a curse under his breath. “Of course.” 

“You all are brats,” she mumbled and for the first time, her stone-like facade broke to reveal a flash of irritation. “You’re just like her.”

“Just like who?” 

“Eunbyeol.” 

“The woman who fell from the stars?” 

“Yes, she’s an idiot just like you.” 

“You know her?” Minho scoffed as the lady audibly sighed. 

“Child, I don’t have time to reiterate your entire heritage, but just so that we both are clear, I am indebted to you.” Minho’s eyebrow shot upwards. A goddess was indebted to him? “In your care is one of my children and I am thankful that you protect him.” 

“What?” Minho’s head tilted in confusion. “Who are you talking about?” 

“The one you call Jeongin.” 

Minho physically recoiled at the new information. She didn’t say much, but the little she did say was enough to make Minho’s head spin. 

“That makes no sense at all.” 

“Ask your friend Chan for clarification. He’s the only one out of the eight of you who has some semblance of intelligence. Well, I suppose Seungmin is quite intelligent too.” 

Minho blinked furiously as he tried to absorb all of the new information. Why were Chan and Seungmin important and who were the eight she was referring to? But before Minho could ask any questions, she spoke up with her regular monotonous voice.

“It’s time for you both to go,” she said as she raised a hand. 

“Wait, I need your blessing.” Minho grabbed the bottom of her hakama as desperation seeped into his voice. He’s been through so much while on this mountain, he can’t leave without accomplishing his goals. 

“You will receive it, but your tasks are not yet complete.” She gazed at Minho before it fell momentarily to Jisung’s unconscious form. “You will complete it soon.” 

And with those final words, she flicked her hand and the same tugging sensation as before stole Minho’s breath from his lungs. The motion was much more forceful and sent a terrible pressure to Minho’s skull as if his skull was compressing and squeezing his brain. 

Then all at once, the pressure subsided and when Minho opened his eyes again, he found himself staring at wooden cross beams with a familiar weight rested against his chest. The scent of spring oranges and fresh mint wrapped around his heart and gave the organ a pitiful squeeze. 

A curse and yelp drew Minho’s attention away from the ceiling to see a man rush to his feet, previously praying to an altar. He yelled something before the door slid open and light filtered in, bright and directly into Minho’s eyes. 

Squeezing his eyes shut, he wrapped a hand around Jisung’s head and tucked it in the crook of his neck to protect the younger’s eyes. Two figures walked into the room and one of them had fire for hair. 

“Hey, you’re alive!” A figure stood above Minho and blocked the bright light from reaching his sensitive eyes. Cracking an eye open, Minho focused on a smiling Yuta, hair illuminated from the sun outside. 

Minho turned to look behind Yuta and watched how Doyoung tried to placate the man Minho had startled earlier. 

“Hey, I’m back.” 

“Welcome back!” Yuta’s smile was nearly as blinding as the sun outside. 

With a groan, Minho sat upright and carefully maneuvered Jisung to rest in his lap. 

“What happened to him?” Doyoung spoke up as the man from before left the room with a huff. 

“The Kuda-gitsune got to him.” Minho sighed and ran a hand through Jisung hair subconsciously. 

The two men shared a look before Minho rearranged Jisung into his arms and stood upright. 

“What?” Minho didn’t like how they looked at him. 

“Nothing,” Yuta said after a beat of silence, hands raised in a placating manner. 

They both looked at Jisung then back at Minho before Doyoung broke the weird tension growing between them. “Let’s get you two a private room.” 

Minho, opting to ignore their odd behavior, nodded and let the two men guide him outside. 

“How long have we been gone?” Minho asked as he adjusted Jisung in his arms. 

Doyoung sent him a look over his shoulder, an agglomeration of emotions that Minho couldn’t distinguish flashed across his face before he began. “About three days?” He looked at the red-haired man beside him. “Right, Yuta?” 

They rounded a corner and entered a small courtyard. A tall cherry blossom tree stood in the middle of the courtyard and overlooked a stone bench that wrapped around the base of the tree. The three walls before them each had a circular and identical door with a tall stone lantern. Ivy climbed the walls and small violet flowers dotted the plant.

Yuta hummed as his clasped hands knocked against the small of his back when he walked to the right door. “Three and a half.” He corrected. “Today is the half.” 

Minho made a noise of understanding before they stopped in front of the circular door. Doyoung produced a silver key from his front pocket and inserted it into the keyhole. With a click, the door easily swung open to reveal a modest room. 

The room had a full-sized bed against one wall and a fireplace under a window on the opposite wall. A leather armchair resided in the far corner of the room, cornered by two bookshelves. A door in the back, this time a regular rectangular door, led to the bathroom, Minho presumed. 

Placing Jisung carefully in the middle of the large bed, Minho straightened and turned to face the two older men standing in the doorway. Doyoung seemed to be deep in thought whereas Yuta had a neutral expression. Although Minho barely knew the two, he could tell that something was off. A quiet Yuta was never a good Yuta. 

Minho approached them, causing both to snap their attention to him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on or are you just going to exchange constipated looks with each other all day?” 

Both of their eyes widened but for entirely different reasons. 

“See, Doyoung! I told you that you look constipated when you give me that look!” Yuta’s eyes twinkled in excitement. 

Doyoung, most likely abashed for getting caught, gave Yuta an affronted scoff. “I do not look constipated!” 

“Yes, you do.” 

“No! I do not!” 

“We’re getting off-topic.” Minho snapped. “How am I the youngest out of the three of us?” 

Yuta laughed goodnaturedly while Doyoung rolled his eyes, however, they both sobered quickly. 

Doyoung sighed before he turned his head slightly to watch the trees outside. “Jisung is- something’s off about him.” 

Minho’s heart sputtered to a pathetic stop for the millionth time that day. “What?”

“I don’t know what happened while you two were up in Mount. Fuji, but Jisung has a very strong spell on him.” Yuta tried to explain, face scrunching as his hands moved frantically. 

“Why? Why is there a spell on him?” Minho hissed through clenched teeth. 

“Let’s talk about this outside,” Doyoung said instead of answering his question. 

Minho let Yuta grab his bicep and guide him outside while Doyoung closed the door behind them. They stopped under the cherry blossom tree just as a strong gust of wind blew past, picking up the fallen leaves under their feet and sending them across the stone pathway. 

“Explain,” Minho yanked his arm out of Yuta’s grasp. The older male didn’t say anything about his behavior, instead exhaled and gave Doyoung a pleading look. When Doyoung didn’t do anything besides shake his head, Yuta rolled his eyes before staring pointedly at Minho. 

“Look, I’ve been studying to become a priest all my life, alright? And I-”

“Wait, you? A priest?” Minho could help the disbelieving laugh that bubbled past his lips. 

“Right?” Doyoung nodded frantically. “I can’t believe it either!” 

“Okay, this is not the time to be roasting me.” Yuta pouted which sent both Minho and Doyoung into a short laughing fit. They quickly sobered when they realized that Yuta was right. This was not the time. 

“Continue.” Minho signaled with a small nod. 

Yuta gave Minho a look before he began once again. “Through what little knowledge we have on Mount. Fuji and the blessing you can get from there, we know that it can grant nearly anything. But usually, you have to wish for it.” Yuta fiddled with his hands before he continued. “Did anyone ask you for your wish, Minho?” 

Minho shook his head slowly after carefully contemplating his answer. “No, no one asked.” 

Yuta sighed, clearly irritated before Doyoung decided to take sympathy. “So you didn’t meet anyone and didn’t get your blessing?” 

“No, I met someone and told her I needed her blessing but she just said that I’ll get it eventually and that my tasks aren’t done yet. Whatever the hell that means.” Minho’s mood soured as he thought back to the woman. 

“Wait,” the excitement from before reappeared in Yuta’s eyes, making him look a little crazy. “What did she look like?” 

“Um, well, first of all, she was a total bitch because she took Jisung away from me,” Minho didn’t really want to talk about her, but he knew it would make things a lot easier if he did. “She was ridiculously tall. Like probably eight feet or something. Wore a red hakama and had a long smoke pipe. Black hair, red-”

“Red markings? Had fox ears and nine tails?” Yuta grabbed Minho’s hands and pulled Minho close, so close in fact that Minho went cross-eyed as he tried to look Yuta in the eyes. 

“Ye-yeah, I think so. I don’t know. I didn’t count her tails.” 

Yuta gasped. “Wow, you met a true Kitsune.” 

“A what now?” 

“Kitsune,” Doyoung explained as he pushed Yuta away from Minho. “A nine-tailed fox.” 

“Right and what’s so special about her?” Minho tried to pull his hands away from Yuta but the red-haired male only tightened his hold. 

“She’s powerful and beautiful and my true love!” Yuta sighed as he stared dreamily into space. Doyoung only scoffed before Yuta continued again. “I can’t believe you received _her_ blessing!” 

“Well, I think it’s more accurate to say Jisung got her blessing.” 

“Ah, right.” Yuta suddenly snapped back to a neutral expression, startling Minho at how quickly his mood changed. “That’s the problem.” 

“And why’s that the problem?” 

“It’s, uh, complicated.” Doyoung’s face scrunched into the constipated expression from before. “Usually blessings require an _exchanging_ of energy to, you know, seal the deal.” 

“Energy.” Minho wasn’t sure if he wanted to know.

“Yeah,” Doyoung looked like he wanted to die in a hole and Minho didn’t blame him. 

“But?” Minho just wanted them to spit it out already. He doesn’t have time for this. 

“But it wouldn’t really matter if your katanas were blessed because they’re inanimate objects so using blood, which is a powerful source for exchanging energy, wouldn’t be a problem to complete the blessing.” Doyoung’s face was rapidly reddening. “But with humans, humans are susceptible to reactions. Most don’t react well to blessings, which is why in a lot of folklore, those who are blessed tend to go crazy or end up dead.” 

“Okay and?” 

“And when Jisung wakes up,” Doyoung coughed. His entire face and neck were now red. “He’s, uh, gonna be, um,” 

“He’s gonna be horny as fuck.” Yuta finished Doyoung’s sentence with a broad smile. 

Doyoung’s eyes widened to saucers before he clamped a hand over Yuta’s mouth. “Don’t say it like that!” 

Yuta said something back but his words weren’t distinguishable due to Doyoung’s hand. 

Minho could only stand there, staring at a small droplet of blood on his boot, and feel like he was deep underwater, like the world around him didn’t exist. 

“No,” Minho’s voice shook. “There has to be another way.”

“Well, there is,” Doyoung began as Minho snapped his gaze up from the ground but only to see Doyoung grimace. Disappointment flooded Minho’s body before Doyoung said anything else. “But it’ll result in a lot of blood loss, which would not be safe for either of you.” 

“The other option is piss, but I don’t think you’re into that,” Yuta said after Doyoung took his hand away, but it only led to the dark-haired man to replace his hand. “I’m not wrong!” Yuta’s voice was muffled against Doyoung’s hand. 

“Yeah, he’s not wrong but I wish he’d shut the fuck up.” Doyoung hissed the last part directly into Yuta’s ear, but the red-haired male didn’t look like he cared. “There’s only so much piss one person can see, ya know?” 

Minho didn’t know but he didn’t want to find out so he slowly nodded. 

“Then how much, you know,” Minho scrunched his nose in discomfort, “do I- we, need to, uh, get?” 

With a grunt, Yuta managed to push Doyoung off of him and sent the handsome male tumbling into the bushes as Doyoung screamed explicits.

“Oh, you’d need to only do it once!” Yuta’s broad smile was back into full force and he looked too excited in Minho’s opinion. “Cum is quite more powerful than blood and piss combined! You’d be surprised.” Yuta placed what the older male probably assumed was a reassuring hand on Minho’s shoulder but it only sent an uneasy shudder down Minho’s spine. 

“That’s enough!” Doyoung finally managed to roll out of the bushes and shove Yuta back with significantly more force. A wild look flared in his eyes as a leaf stuck out of his hair. Yuta fell onto the ground and tumbled a few feet away with an inhuman noise. 

Doyoung straightened and turned to look calmly at Minho. With a gentle hand, Doyoung squeezed Minho’s bicep, which actually reassured Minho somewhat. “You’ll be okay.” A smile stretched across his handsome face and Minho found himself smiling back instinctually. 

“Ye-yeah, you’ll be fine.” Yuta groaned from where he pushed himself off the ground to flash Minho a thumbs up. “Go get your mans, tiger!” 

“Shut the fuck up!” Doyoung yelled as he threw a stick at Yuta and managed to hit the middle of the redhead’s forehead. 

Minho laughed, feeling light for the first time in a while as Doyoung and Yuta bickered. Even if it was for a mere moment, Minho forgot about his problems for the first time in a long time.


	7. Interlude

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> interlude: a noun meaning an intervening period of time
> 
> Minho and Jisung return from Japan

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> idk why the chapter is so short LOL  
> My bad hehe

Minho realized that he had been staring at the same word for the last fifteen minutes. 

Licking his dry lips, Minho turned the page of the novel and tried to make sense of the jumble of words that somehow formed sentences and a plot. Deep down, Minho knew that he was just trying to distract himself from the inevitable and that he gave zero shits about some bastard named Romeo and a bitch named Juliet. 

“Minho?” 

A quiet voice startled Minho from his thoughts and caused him to quickly look up from his book with shaky pupils. 

Jisung looked so small in the full-sized bed. He splayed across the bed, one arm curved around his head and the other across his stomach, and Minho couldn’t help but see him as delicate. Like a newly bloomed flower. 

But despite the delicacy of Jisung’s gentle sloping nose or the flutter of his long lashes, Minho couldn’t ignore the bead of sweat that rolled down his temple or how his collarbones peaked through the open collar of his shirt. 

“Are you alright?” Minho was up on his feet and crossing the short distance between them before he even realized it. 

“Why is it so hot?” Jisung’s face was flushed, red spread across his cheekbones and the tips of his ears in a way that only Jisung could pull off. 

“You’re reacting to the blessing.” Minho forced himself to swallow some saliva to moisten his dry throat, not missing how Jisung watched his Adam’s apple move. “Doyoung explained to me what would happen.” 

Jisung made an irritated noise as he tilted his head away, exposing his neck for Minho to see. “Why me?” He groaned. 

Minho sat on the edge of the bed, his leg brushed against Jisung’s thigh. Wordlessly, he reached to brush Jisung’s fringe out of his eyes and ignored the thin sheen of sweat on his skin. 

“How are you feeling?” 

“I-” Jisung’s eyebrows pinched close together as he took a shaky breath in. Minho knew what the answer would be, but hearing Jisung confirm it himself made Minho’s heart race and his face heat. “Honestly, I don’t feel too good.” 

“Yeah, Yuta-Hyung said that you wouldn’t.” A bead of sweat rolled down Minho’s neck. Why was he so nervous?

Jisung didn’t say anything except stare at the space between his nose and his upper lip. Minho‘s brain was foggy thus rendering him useless at keeping up the conversation. Instead of racking his empty mind for something to say, Minho dragged his eyes over Jisung’s features and was met with the reminder that Jisung was a beautiful human being. 

Not handsome, like what people might describe Minho as, but beautiful. Jisung was the embodiment of strength and courage, he was modest and patient. Minho found that absolutely breathtaking. 

But what Minho did not find beautiful, however, was the tinge of green in the younger’s round cheeks. 

“Jisung? Are you alright?” 

Instead of answering, Jisung ripped the blanket off of his body only to throw his legs off the bed. Minho could only watch, confusion overtaken his features, as Jisung tried to walk, but only crumbled to the floor. Luckily for the younger, Minho caught him before he could faceplant the floor. Unfortunately for Minho, Jisung decided that he couldn’t hold it in anymore, and Minho was thanked by receiving a mouthful of vomit on his shirt. 

Stunned, Minho could only stare as Jisung slumped in his arms and the younger’s unfocused eyes fluttered. 

“Fuck, I’m so sorry. Everything’s kind of spinning and I-”

“It’s alright,” Minho lied. He wanted to kill everyone. It was not alright. “Let’s get you to the bathroom to clean you up.”

Jisung let Minho half-drag, half-carry him to the bathroom all while muttering apologies until Minho told him to shut up or he’ll leave him on the cold floor to deal with his nausea on his own. Jisung didn’t say anything else. 

They reached the bathroom without any more accidents, thankfully, and Minho unceremoniously dumped Jisung before the toilet in time for Jisung to empty the remainder of his stomach. 

Minho tugged off his shirt, his earring tapped against his neck as he tried his best to not touch the substance on his shirt. Dropping his shirt into the shower and using the showerhead to obliterate the vomit, Minho purposely ignored the foul sound coming from Jisung in favor of cursing the deity responsible for this. 

Shutting off the shower with a little too much force than what was necessary, Minho accepted defeat and instead gave his attention to the sick boy named Jisung. 

Jisung laid on the toilet bowl, eyes clenched shut and chest rising in quick successions. A thin sheen of sweat covered Jisung’s forehead and his red lips were slick with a combination of spit and vomit. Minho, although he was well aware of how disgusting it was, had a small part of his brain wishing that he could place his own lips on Jisung’s. 

“Earth to Jisung,” Minho called out as he tugged on the younger’s arm. “Are you alive?”

“Unfortunately yes,” Jisung grumbled as he rose on unstable legs. “My brain is about to combust.”

Minho nodded solemnly. “That happens.” 

Jisung splashed his face with water before he gratefully took the toothbrush Minho offered. Moving to stand behind the younger, Minho ran a hand through Jisung’s hair and nearly cringed at how warm Jisung was. Jisung only shuttered at the motion. 

“Your hand is really warm,” Jisung muttered around the toothbrush, sending bits of toothpaste suds flying. 

Minho shrugged. “I’m just like this.” 

Jisung didn’t say anything else before he began to rinse his mouth but Minho thought ‘trying to drown himself’ was a more accurate description of how the younger seemed to be giving up. Reaching around the younger to shut the water off, Minho pulled Jisung to his chest and proceeded to reach for the towel, ignoring the small content sigh that slipped past Jisung’s rosy lips. Minho also ignored Jisung’s annoyed groan when Minho not-so-gently dried Jisung’s face. 

“Let’s get you to bed, Princess,” Minho grumbled before he picked Jisung up bridal-style. Carrying the younger was a lot easier and less time-consuming. 

“I am not a princess,” Jisung said but quickly yawned. 

“You need to sleep.” Minho ignored Jisung’s protest.

“Says who?” Jisung’s lower lip protruded to a pout as his eyes involuntarily slipped closed. Minho swallowed his laughter. 

“Says me.” Minho placed Jisung onto the bed and the younger immediately curled into himself.

A frown tugged at the corners of Jisung’s lips but he didn’t bother to open his eyes. “Maybe I will.” 

“Maybe you should.” 

“Fine, I’ll do it.”

“Fine.” 

And true to his words, Jisung’s face relaxed and eventually his breathing slowed. Minho had to take a second to realize that Jisung did actually fall asleep. 

He shook his head fondly before he turned to leave, but he didn’t get very far before a hand wrapped around his wrist. 

“Where are you going?” Jisung’s sleepy voice startled Minho from his thoughts. 

Minho had to swallow his surprise before he began to speak. “I’m going to go talk to Yuta Hyung and Doyoung Hyung to see if we can get you some medicine.” 

The frown from before etched across Jisung’s face once again. “It’s been a long day. You should rest.” 

Jisung’s sleepy and clingy nature was a side that Minho had never seen before, but he couldn’t help but find it endearing despite the fact that Minho had never been one to like physical affection. 

“I’ll be fine.” Minho insisted. 

Jisung gave the space next to him a few pats. “Talk to them later.” 

Minho opened his mouth then closed it. Then opened it once more only to have his protest die on his tongue. “Fine.” He sighed but found that he couldn’t regret his decision when Jisung gave him a bright, yet sleepy smile. 

Jisung scooted to give Minho more space as the older male reached to move the blanket aside, unbeknownst to himself that a smile had begun to etch across his face. 

But before Minho could get under the warm blanket, someone knocked on the door and immediately annoyance washed over him. Minho stilled for a second and had half the mind to grab Jisung’s gun and shoot whoever was on the other side of the door. 

“Give me a second.” Minho sighed before he yanked the door open and glared at the person before him. 

“Hi,” Yuta grinned, chest heaving as he scanned Minho up and down, taking note of his missing shirt and most likely misinterpreting the current situation. 

“What do you want?” Minho grumbled. 

“Yuta! Leave them alone!” 

Minho glanced behind Yuta to see Doyoung charging towards them with a murderous glint in his eye. 

_ Ah, that’s why Yuta’s out of breath. _

“So I’ve done some research,” Yuta began as his eyes sparkled in excitement. “And I’ve found out that it’s actually not the cum or the sex that seals the deal.” 

“Actually, we didn’t-” Minho looked warily behind Yuta and noted how close Doyoung was getting. He didn’t want to get caught up in Doyoung’s wrath. 

“It’s actually because of lov-” Yuta interrupted Minho but didn’t get the chance to finish before Minho slammed the door in Yuta’s face just as Doyoung yanked Yuta back by the collar. 

Despite the thick wooden door separating Minho and the murder on the other side, Minho could still hear Yuta’s cry for help and Doyoung’s scolding. 

Shaking his head with a quiet sigh, Minho surmised that there was nothing he could do to save Yuta and returned to the bed and slipped under the cover. 

Almost immediately, Jisung latched onto Minho’s side and buried his head in the crook of Minho’s neck, much to the older’s surprise. 

“What’d they want?” Jisung mumbled. 

“Nothing important,” Minho said as he yawned. Maybe he was more tired than he initially thought. 

“That’s good,” Jisung said after a beat of silence. 

Minho only hummed his agreement before he felt Jisung’s breathing slow and Jisung soon began to softly snore. Tearing his gaze away from the off-white ceiling, Minho glanced down to see Jisung smoosh his face against Minho’s collarbone. 

Unbeknownst to Minho, a soft smile stretched across his face as he returned his gaze to the ceiling above. 

After a moment of just lying there and thinking, A sudden realization came to Minho.

Minho would follow Jisung to hell and back with no questions asked. Even if Jisung did just vomit on Minho.

The revelation didn’t shock Minho for some odd reason. Perhaps it was because Jisung had managed to worm his way through his life and weave his being with Minho’s in a way that had Minho dependent on the younger for normalcy. 

Minho expected himself to freak out but instead, the warm and comfortable acceptance washed over Minho and made him relax into the soft mattress below. It was as if his heart knew before he did and it was only a matter of time before Minho came to accept it. 

And that’s exactly what he did. Minho accepted it. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“So..?”

“So what?” Minho sipped his tea and tried to ignore the wide grin stretched across Yuta’s face. 

“Last night.” Yuta rested his chin in his palm, eyes wide and excited. 

“Yuta.” Doyoung sighed exasperatedly. “Why are you like this?” 

“What? I can’t be curious?” Yuta sat back in his chair and wrapped his arms across his chest, his eyes glimmered with mischievousness. 

Minho didn’t really care about Yuta’s prodding, but a quick glance in Jisung’s direction told Minho that the younger was definitely embarrassed. A red blush dusted his cheeks and he had been staring at his tea as if it would tell him the meaning of life. 

“Jisung got a cold but thanks to the medicine Doyoung gave him, he’s fine.”

Yuta frowned. “That’s it?”

“Yes.”

“But that’s so bor-”

“Anyway,” Minho sighed and returned his tea to the iron table with a soft clang. “Jisung and I should head back. Seo Cheolmin’s birthday party is coming up and we need to prepare.” 

Jisung finally looked up from his tea and they shared a small nod. The birthday party was within a week and they needed to flush out a plan. 

Yuta’s face settled into something more serious before he reached into his pocket and produced two vials. “Alright, I suppose you’re right. Good luck. I hope you’re able to do this. A lot of good will come out of this.” 

The vials twinkled in the morning light when Yuta passed one to Jisung then one to Minho. The familiar murky liquid swooshed in the small vial as Minho uncorked it. 

“Yeah, good luck to the both of you,” Doyoung said as Minho and Jisung tipped the contents down their throats. 

Minho hissed as the liquid burned down his throat but it wasn’t long until the familiar drowsy feeling washed over him. He felt a pair of hands catch Minho’s head before he could sway and hit the table right before he blacked out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Welcome back.” 

Minho blinked the sleep from his eyes before he sat up. His neck ached but after he came to his senses; he realized why. He was back in Joshua’s living room, sitting at the small round table as Granny prepared something on the stove. 

Jisung groaned from where he sat next to Minho and rubbed his eyes. “Hi, Mrs. Hong. We’re back.” 

Granny tisked before she slid them water. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Granny?” 

“Sorry,” Jisung gave her an apologetic smile before he sipped the water. 

Minho could only slouch in his chair and fight the urge to fall back asleep. 

“Minho, I hope you’re not planning to fall asleep again.” 

_ God damn it. _

“Of course not, Granny.” Minho fought back a yawn and sat up straight. “Where’s Joshua?” 

“Joshua is out taking care of his crops with Emily. He’ll be back later.” 

Minho nodded and took a sip of water. The cool liquid slipped down his throat easily and subdued the burn from earlier. 

“Was it successful?” Granny asked as she sat opposite them. 

Minho could only shrug. “Guess so.” 

A frown pulled at the corners of her lips. “What does that mean?” 

“We received the blessing,” Jisung began, “but there are some complications. I think it’s all sorted out now. At least that’s what Yuta Hyung said.” 

Granny’s frown still etched across her face but she didn’t press on the subject. “I take that your trip was fine? Uneventful?” 

Minho couldn’t help the dry laugh as Jisung choked on his water. “Yeah, something like that,” Minho said as Granny passed Jisung a napkin. 

She gave them both a weird look but couldn’t press for answers before the door swung open to reveal a muddy Joshua with little Emily trailing behind him. 

“Oh! You’re both back.” Joshua said as he placed his straw hat on the hook next to the door. 

“We’re back,” Jisung said as he gave Emily a hug. 

“Emily, why don’t you go draw in our room. The adults need to talk.” 

Emily rolled her eyes but did as her father told her. She grabbed her sketchbook and disappeared behind a door. 

“Since you’re both back relatively unscathed, I’m guessing everything went well?” Joshua asked before he drank some water himself. 

Both Minho and Jisung nodded. 

“Seo Cheolmin’s birthday party is in a week,” Granny stated and again, they nodded. “Joshua and I had been thinking of a plan while you two were gone and I believe we have a solid idea of what to do and how to go about it.

“Jisung will go to the party as he would normally do as a prince. Minho will pretend to be one of the waiters. This will allow you to get close to Han Kangsoo and do what you need to do.” Granny met their gaze with absolute certainty and Minho had no choice but to believe that it was just that easy. “Poison his food with this-“ she held a small vial for him to see, “it’s only strong enough to get him sick, but he’d be bedridden. Use that opportunity well.” 

Joshua nodded before speaking up, “of course we don’t know what will happen while at the party so you both will have to play it by ear, but hopefully Jisung would make it easier for Minho to get close.” 

Jisung agreed easily, however, Minho couldn’t help but be a little hesitant. He didn’t like how loose their plan was. It was easy to digest but so many different factors could come into play and influence the results. So many complications could occur and Minho wanted to be prepared for anything. 

“Minho,” Granny’s steady voice snapped Minho back to the present. “There will be risks, but that's inevitable. We will just have to prepare for as many complications that we can but if everything goes according to plan, this won't be difficult.” 

Minho took a shaky breath in before he nodded himself and silently cursed how she seemed to know why exactly he was so hesitant. 

Joshua spoke up after giving Minho an apprehensive look. “Jisung, you will return back to the castle tomorrow and prepare. Minho will meet up with you the day of. I’m sure there are some princely things you need to do before such a big event.” 

Jisung seemed at ease with the situation at hand, a stark contrast to the inner turmoil thrumming through Minho’s chest. Minho couldn’t help but envy Jisung. The younger had nothing to worry about, hell he didn’t have a real role in this. Minho was doing all of the heavy liftings. Jisung was just a background character. 

“What will Minho do in the meantime?” Jisung sent Minho a wary glance and Minho had to look away.

“Learn how to be a good waiter.” Joshua snorted as if he remembered something funny. 

“What?” Minho scoffed, “I can be a good waiter. I doubt it's anything difficult.” 

Silence lapsed over them before Jisung was the first to break. His laughter bubbled out of his chest as he desperately tried to cover his mouth as if he could force himself to stop. Joshua and Granny promptly followed suit and soon, all three of them were laughing at Minho. 

“What’s so funny?” Minho wasn’t exactly sure what was happening but the one thing he did know was that he was offended. 

“Minho,” Jisung began and was only interrupted by his own laughter. “This is a party for royalty or close friends of royalty. The standards are pretty high.” 

Jisung giggled again and Minho knew he should be angry or at least annoyed but he couldn’t. At least not at Jisung, so instead he glared at the wall opposite of him and crossed his arms. 

“We aren’t doubting you, Minho.” Granny cleared her throat and at least had the courtesy to pretend that she wasn’t just laughing at him. “But it’s not as easy as you probably think.” 

“Whatever,” Minho grumbled, which for some reason sent them all into another laughing fit. 

“What a child,” Joshua sneered. Minho would have appreciated it when Granny slapped Joshua’s arm in a chastising manner, but she was still laughing so Minho only rolled his eyes and ignored the sentiment. 

“Don’t pout, Minho.” Jisung poked his face in front of Minho’s, a huge grin tugged at his lips. “It’s not cute.” 

“I’m not pouting,” Minho nearly snapped but it only caused more snickers. Minho deflated and gave Jisung a side glare. “I’m not going to miss your pathetic ass once you leave.” 

Jisung’s face, much to Minho’s surprise, lit up in a way that made Minho regret what he said immediately. “So you would’ve missed me?” 

“Wow, I did not see that coming. What happened in Japan?” Joshua pretended to whisper to Granny as heat quickly began to rise to Minho’s cheeks. 

Granny played along with Joshua and pretended to whisper back. “I’m not quite sure but I think our Minho has a heart now.” 

Minho resisted the urge to pull all of his hair out. “I said that I wouldn’t miss him. Did you all not hear me?” 

Once again, the only reply Minho received were bouts of laughter but the only person Minho could hear was Jisung. The younger boy looked so bright and carefree that Minho had to tear his gaze away from the sight, but the damage had already been done. Jisung’s wide smile and joyous laughter were going to be forever ingrained into the retinas of Minho’s eyes. 

Minho huffed and tried to keep the heat in his face at a minimum. “Whatever,” He grumbled, at a loss of words. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho couldn’t help but think that it was just wrong. He watched almost helplessly as Jisung swallowed the liquid in one fluid motion before he laid on the bed. Like an insatiable itch right below the surface of his skin, the uncomfortable feeling settled at the bottom of his stomach and left him antsy. 

Minho’s leg bounced from where he sat at the corner of the room. It was odd watching the process unfold right before him when Minho was usually the one experiencing it. It felt wrong watching from afar instead of being next to Jisung, falling asleep slowly, then all at once. 

Then suddenly, as if Jisung didn’t even exist, Minho blinked and all that was left were slightly wrinkled bed sheets and the faint scent of oranges. 

Minho felt hollow. 

“Hope the trip was relatively painless.” Joshua sighed and smoothed out the bed. 

Granny nodded before she turned to address Minho. “Let’s go. We have things to do.” 

Minho only stood and followed Granny out of the room. 

Minho couldn’t help but wonder when exactly did Jisung become such a prominent person in his life to the point that even when Minho wasn’t with him, his absence was nearly crushing. Minho felt too exposed without Jisung following him like a shadow. He felt too cold without Jisung’s body heat near him. He felt too restless without Jisung’s calming presence to ground him. 

“Hello? Minho, are you still there?” 

A hand waving before his face snapped Minho back to reality. Somehow, he had made it back to the small kitchen table, Granny stared at him weirdly. 

“Ye-yeah. Never left.” 

“Right,” Joshua sighed from beside Granny and Minho wanted to protest to at least try to protect his honor but he knew it was futile. 

“Anyway,” Minho cleared his throat. “What’s next?” 

“What’s next is that you need to learn how to be a good waiter,” Joshua said. 

“Ah, right,” Minho recalled their previous conversation. “Easy.”

Granny looked like she wanted to say something but she held her tongue. Instead, she reached behind her and pulled out something from the drawer. The kitchen was so small that she didn’t need to move to do so. 

“What is this?” She held the object up for Minho to see. 

“A spoon.” 

“Yes, obviously.” Joshua rolled his eyes. “But what type of spoon?” 

Minho looked between the two of them and tried to remember if they hit their head earlier. “It’s a metal spoon?” 

“No, it’s a  _ soup _ spoon,” Granny said with ill-concealed annoyance. “What is this?” She held up a smaller metal spoon with engravings on its handle. 

“I don’t know.” Minho huffed and threw his hands up. “It’s a tiny spoon?” 

“A  _ tea _ spoon.” Granny sighed audibly while Joshua ran a tired hand down his face. 

“Why on Earth do I need to know the different purposes of  _ spoons _ ?” Minho nearly growled. He didn’t like how he felt like an idiot. 

“This is basic table manners, Minho!” Joshua slammed a hand on the table, causing Emily to turn around from where she sat on the couch. “How do you not know the difference between a soup spoon and a tea spoon?” 

“Well, I’m sorry.” Minho rolled his eyes in a completely unapologetic manner. “I grew up using the same  _ soup  _ spoon for everything I ate and I’ve used twigs as chopsticks before, Joshua- Hyung, so forgive me for my ignorance, but at least I’d be able to identify  _ that _ .” 

An awkward silence lapsed between them as Minho and Joshua stared daggers at each other. Granny sighed and placed the spoons gently onto the table. 

“That’s enough, boys.” She said before she turned to speak to Emily. “It looks like we have a lot to teach both of them.” 

Emily nodded as she giggled. “Yeah, we do.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“That’s it.” Granny sighed into her hands. “We are done for the night. Minho, please put the plates away.” 

Wordlessly, Minho got up and did as he was told. He knew better than to complain when he had been the main reason why she was going to go bald from stress. 

When Minho returned to his seat, Joshua slid a mug of tea in front of Minho as if apologizing for the way he acted earlier. Minho took the silent apology and leaned back in his chair, sighing after being forced to maintain a straight posture throughout the entire lesson. 

The TV was merely background noise as Emily watched the weather, a strange choice for a young girl her age, but Minho didn’t think much of it. It’s not like she had many other options. 

A comfortable silence washed over them as the sun began to drop below the horizon, giving the room a warm golden glow. Minho’s eyelids felt droopy but he refused to go to sleep first. 

“Do you remember when we first met, Minho?” Granny suddenly spoke up and drew Minho back to the present. 

Minho nodded and laughed humorlessly. How could he forget when he begged at her feet to help him? “Of course I do.” 

She laughed too but not in a mocking manner. Joshua listened to both of them, only producing noise when he drank his tea. 

“I honestly think you saved me that night,” Granny said unexpectedly. 

Minho sat straight in his chair and placed his mug down. “What do you mean?” 

Granny sighed before a bitter smile stretched across her aged face. “I wasn’t doing too well. I was very upset that my sons had left me alone when I had given them everything I had. From the clothes on my back to the single won I found on the streets.” 

Minho nodded and recalled how she had three sons, the youngest being Joshua. He could barely remember how they looked like let alone their names. 

“I asked for a sign from God otherwise I was going to end everything.” Something vulnerable made its way in her voice, something Minho had never heard before from someone as strong as her. “And then I saw you.” 

Minho turned his face away and tried to fight the burning sensation behind his eyes. He remembered that night very well and he was forever grateful that he met her that day. 

They were all cold and drenched from the day’s previous rainfall. He, Hyunjin, and Felix had just made it to the city, and unfortunately, Felix had caught a cold. Minho remembered how terrified he was, how Felix was burning, and how Hyunjin sobbed until he passed out. 

Minho remembered how guilty he felt for putting the two of them through that. 

“You gave me another reason to continue, Minho.” She smiled, small yet grateful, into her mug, and Minho was hit with the sudden realization of just how old she was as he continued to take in her features. The puffs under her eyes, her weathered hands. How she couldn’t stand for as long as she used to, small and frail yet so strong-willed. 

“You’re the reason why we are still alive, Granny,” Minho whispered as if speaking any louder would break Granny’s fragile state. “We didn’t have  _ anything _ yet you were so willing to help us with everything we needed.”

She laughed again but this time with more mirth. “No, you’re still alive because you killed that bitch of an ex you had.” 

Joshua promptly began to choke on his tea, making everyone send him a weird glance. “Woah, wait, what?” He managed to say between coughs. “You dated someone, Minho?” 

Minho’s face soured as he thought back. “Unfortunately, yes.” 

“What happened to them?” Joshua wiped the tea off his chin. 

Minho gave Granny a pleading look to help him out of this situation but she only shrugged and leaned back in her chair. Minho silently cursed her in his mind. 

“Yea! Tell us, Minho Hyung!” Emily cheered from the couch. 

“This story isn’t really PG-13.” Minho grimace. “It’s not a love story.” 

Emily scoffed. “I can handle it.”

“No,” Joshua shook his head. “Go to sleep.” 

“Aw, but Dad-”

“No,” Joshua was more firm this time. “I’ll tell you the clean version tomorrow. Go to sleep.” 

Emily groaned but got off the couch to turn off the TV and give her father a quick hug before disappearing behind closed doors. 

“Now, spill.” Joshua leaned back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chess. Minho only gave Granny one last pleading glance but she only smiled back. 

  
“Fucking  _ fine _ .” Minho groaned and Joshua laughed. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Backstory coming up :0
> 
> Also, I've been working on another MinSung fic bc I apparently cannot get enough. Look out for that in a month or two ;3;


	8. Ambages

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ambages: a noun meaning winding or an indirect route/pathway
> 
> Minho reveals a bit of his past and becomes a waiter (he doesn't even make minimum wage).

Freedom. They were free. 

Minho could smell better, he could hear better, he could see better. 

He felt better. Alive. 

The three of them, Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix, stood at the gate that separated them from Seoul. It had been rough getting from their small, out-of-the-way city to the big and bustling capital of Korea. 

Seoul was drastically different. Automobiles were common on the streets, people were clean, people were happy. 

God, Minho wanted to be just like them. 

It was amazing how lively Seoul was. In contrast to where they escaped from, people weren’t afraid to say hi to each other, they weren’t scared to be out and about. The women didn’t shy away from the men that walked past. Seoul seemed like a dream. 

But just like any other dream, it didn’t last long. 

As they continued to walk throughout the city, Minho became increasingly aware of the eyes that followed them but he could never pinpoint who the owners were. 

He started to grow self-conscious of their sorry state and how out of place they seemed to be. Dirt from the journey covered their clothes and they probably didn’t smell very good. It didn’t help that Hyunjin and Felix didn’t realize or choose not to care that they were drawing attention to them by being so loud. Minho couldn’t blame them when they excitedly pointed out something they’ve never seen before since he was just as excited, but the unwanted attention was getting to Minho. 

“Hyunjin, Felix,” Minho hoped the younger boys couldn’t hear the nerves in his voice. 

“What is it, Hyung?” Felix called from over his shoulder. “Wow look at the doggy!” 

A woman wearing a pink silk blouse and tailored pants glanced at them before her nose scrunched. Tugging at the leash, she sped past just as the dog started to bark aggressively at them. 

“Aw, what a shame.” Hyunjin pouted as he waved bye to the dog, which continued to bark at the three of them as it disappeared. 

“Hey, I think we-“ 

“Woah! Felix look at that!” Hyunjin’s face lit up as he pointed to the flower shop across the street. The pink flowers captivated the attention of the two boys easily and seemed to taunt Minho with their vibrant petals as he continued to struggle. 

“Let’s go look at them!” Hyunjin took off from where they were and approached the street, a grin tugging at the corners of his lip. 

Felix’s gentle giggle contrasted with his deep voice as he called out to his friend. “Wait up, Hyunjin.” 

Dread filled Minho’s belly as he watched Hyunjin approach the street before he could catch his wrist. Time seemed to slow as Hyunjin set a foot off the curb and onto the street as a biker quickly approached, going too fast to stop. 

“Hyunjin! Watch out!” 

Minho watched as Hyunjin turned, confusion clouding his handsome face. He swallowed a scream as the biker turned onto the sidewalk and crashed into a lamppost, inches away from Hyunjin. 

The contents from the biker’s backpack spilled onto the street and sidewalk as the biker fell to the ground. The loud crash sliced through the chatter of the crowd before a deafening silence overshadowed everyone. 

Closing and opening his mouth repeatedly, Minho struggled to find the right words to say. The leering eyes of those around them seemed to encircle them, blocking any means of escape. A few people went to help the biker on the ground as Hyunjin watched, confusion and surprise written plainly on his face. 

“Oh sir, your stuff.” Hyunjin snapped out of his shock and moved to pick up the spilled contents. 

Before Minho could say anything, rage colored the biker’s face red as he hastily approached Hyunjin. 

Ripping his belongings from Hyunjin’s weak grasp, he snapped at the confused wood elf. “Are you trying to steal from me?” He hissed loudly for all to hear. “Go back to the slums where you belong!” 

“Slums?” Minho heard Felix’s mumble. 

Anxiety soared through Minho’s body, increasing exponentially with each syllable the biker spat. The onlookers glanced warily at the commotion and more and more people were stopping to see what was going on. Harsh whispers filled the air, criticizing Hyunjin for his carelessness, often reducing him to just a dirty peasant who didn’t belong here. Minho had no idea what they were referring to, but Minho was certain that they were in the wrong place and they needed to leave now. 

Hyunjin slowly snapped out of his confusion and instead, annoyance masked his facial features. 

“Belong? I don’t belong to anyone or anywhere!” 

“You bastard,” the man sneered. “Poor and dirty, good-for-nothing bastard!” 

Minho could hear the murmurs of agreements through the ringing in his ears. He didn’t know what to do or what he was supposed to do. 

“You’re disgusting,” the biker continued without hesitation, unaware of Minho’s inner turmoil. “All you whores are the same.” The biker’s gaze suddenly shifted as he grabbed Hyunjin’s wrist when the wood elf tried to back away. 

Fury replaced his anxiety as the man latched onto Hyunjin’s arm, Minho's fear was gone in an instant. However, just as Minho took a step forward, a tall figure reached Hyunjin first. A man with sharp features and bleached hair stood between the biker and Hyunjin, a smile on his lips but warning danced in his eyes. 

“I think that’s enough, sir.” The stranger said, voice deep and gravely. 

“Who-”

“I don’t want to get the cops involved but I won't hesitate to call them.” Tilting his head slightly, the stranger’s eyes creased into crescents as his smile stretched to something more sinister. 

Silently, the biker mulled over his options before he let go of Hyunjin with a tch. The crowd around them slowly began to disperse and Minho could breathe again. 

The stranger asked Hyunjin something but Minho couldn’t hear, he could only see the man’s full, heart-shaped lips move to produce syllables. 

However, instead of answering, Hyunjin gaped at the man before Felix ran to the older boy and crashed into him to give Hyunjin a full-body hug. 

“Are you hurt, Jinnie?” Felix’s voice muffled from where he buried his face into Hyunjin’s chest. 

“I- no, I’m fine.” 

“Hyunjin,” After realizing that Hyunjin was safe and sound, Minho’s fear of the possibility that Hyunjin could’ve gotten hurt or even worse, died, made Minho infuriated that Hyunjin had been so careless. “You need to be more careful. Don’t you know how dangerous that could’ve been?”

Hyunjin’s lower lip jutted out as regret started to form on his face and Felix squeezed harder.

“I think he understands.” A new voice spoke up, startling Minho and making him forget the scolding words that were about to spill from his lips. 

Turning around, Minho’s breath caught in his throat when he realized just how attractive the stranger who saved Hyunjin was. The stranger watched the three of them with absolutely no malice on his handsome face. His hair swept over one eyebrow messily and he was taller than Hyunjin by a few inches but much broader than any of them. His gold earring caught the sunlight as he tilted his head, confusion flashed across his face.

Realizing that Minho had been staring, he coughed to dispel the awkwardness, which only worsened the atmosphere.

“Thank you for helping us,” Minho said on behalf of all of them and bowed ninety degrees.

“Oh, no, it’s fine!” The stranger chuckled when Hyunjin and Felix followed suit and bowed as well. “Please, don’t bow.” 

“It’s the least I can do,” Hyunjin mumbled as he rose. 

“It’s really nothing.” A sheepish smile tugged at the corner of the stranger’s lips as he avoided eye contact, hand messing up his already messy hair. “So, where are you three headed?” He said when silence washed over them.

“Oh, about that,” Minho trailed off, not sure how to answer him. Their original goal was to make it to Seoul but now that they had made it, he wasn’t sure what they should do now. 

“We have absolutely no clue,” Felix spoke up from where he stood next to Hyunjin, clinging onto his arm as if the elf would suddenly disappear if he didn’t. 

The man before them laughed but he wasn’t mocking them. “Ah, I see.” His eyes twinkled in the sunlight when he smiled. “Why don’t you come to my place? I could help you out.”

Guilt suddenly flared through Minho but he knew that they were completely clueless and the stranger could be the savior they needed. 

“No, you already helped us so much,” Minho floundered, his hands came up as if to shoo the help away.

The stranger only laughed again and Minho’s face colored. “I really don’t mind. I was feeling lonely anyway so your company is much appreciated.” 

“Well, if you don’t mind,” Felix spoke up, a cheeky grin stretched on his face. 

“Not at all,” the stranger laughed once more, airy and carefree, a contrast to his deep voice. “By the way, I’m Wooyoung. Kim Wooyoung.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Everything with Wooyoung was like a dream. 

He was kind, attractive, entertaining. Perfect. 

He took care of Hyunjin and Felix by making sure they ate and had clean clothes and a comfortable bed. 

Hyunjin and Felix loved him. 

And Minho did too. 

Everything was a dream, but some dreams turn into nightmares. 

It was nearly indistinguishable when Wooyoung first changed. Or perhaps Wooyoung was always like that and Minho was too blind or love-sick to see it. 

The first time Minho noticed was when Wooyoung criticized Minho’s first love, dancing. Dancing was something Minho used to forget everything and to escape reality. He fell in love with the art when he first saw people performing in a park when he and Wooyoung were walking through it together. It was the time of the year when fall turned into winter, when the leaves found peace in the earth once again. 

Wooyoung’s hand was warm in his, a welcomed contrast to the chilly air around them. The rhythmic music of the dancers made Minho’s heartbeat in sync with it, it made him want to join them and be free. 

“God, their music is giving me a headache,” Wooyoung complained. “And who the hell actually dances anymore? Let’s hurry and walk faster. I don’t want to be near them any longer.” 

A frown tugged on Minho’s lip. Wooyoung had always encouraged his dancing, so what was the difference between him and the performers? 

His inner turmoil was quickly forgotten once Minho felt a pair of soft lips against his and snapped him back to reality. 

“What’s got you frowning like that, hm?” Wooyoung’s perfect lips stretched into a smile that was equally as perfect. “I hope it’s not because of me.” 

His thoughts were quickly forgotten as Minho laughed and tugged their connected hands to start moving again, Wooyoung complying without any complaints. 

“No, it’s definitely not because of you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  


The second time Minho noticed something was off was when they were out shopping, looking for Christmas gifts. 

“Hey, look at him.” Wooyoung pointed to a young man a few steps in front of them with his chin. “He’s so tall. Look at his physique too. I bet he has a strong build.” 

Minho couldn’t help but loosen his grasp on Wooyoung’s larger hands from where they were entwined in his brown coat. 

“What? What are you trying to say?” A pang of hurt and jealousy punctured Minho’s naive heart and left a gaping hole in its wake. Minho didn’t look like that guy. Should he? Would Wooyoung love him more if he did? 

“Nothing, it’s nothing.” Wooyoung quickly brushed it off with a shake of his head. “Hey, baby. What’s got you so sad?” 

Minho lifted his head from where he was staring at his worn-down oxfords to look at his lover. He didn’t realize that he wore his emotions so clearly, leaving them vulnerable on the sleeve of his shirt. 

“I- it’s nothing.” Minho felt ashamed for doubting Wooyoung’s love. After all, there’s no way someone could look at Minho like he hung the stars in the night sky and not love him. 

A soft smile found its way onto Wooyoung’s face as the older boy stared fondly at Minho. Red dusted Minho's cheeks from the intensity of the stare but he didn’t dare look away. 

“You love me, right?” 

Minho’s eyes widened briefly before he left out an airy laugh. “What a strange way to word it, Hyung.” 

“Hey, I’m being serious.” A childish pout tugged on Wooyoung’s plump lips. “Tell me.”

“Of course I love you.” 

“Good.” Wooyoung gave Minho a smile that had his mind reeling, so blindingly beautiful and so perfect. Minho couldn’t believe that the man before him was his. All his. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The third instance was the final snapping point. 

  
  


“Hey, Minho,” Wooyoung called to the younger when he stepped out of the bathroom and toweled his hair dry as another towel hung low on his hips and didn’t leave much for the imagination. 

“Hm? What is it?” Minho glanced up from the book he was reading and immediately forgot about it once he saw Wooyoung. Wooyoung’s chiseled torso and toned legs made Minho’s mouth run dry. The way Wooyoung sauntered over to him sent a shiver throughout his body, captivated by the power Wooyoung held simply by existing. 

Stopping between Minho’s legs, Wooyoung tilted Minho’s head up and planted a short and sweet kiss on his lips. 

“My friend is hosting his birthday party at a karaoke bar. Do you want to go with me?” Wooyoung’s hand snaked its way to the nape of Minho’s neck and played with the short strands of hair located there. 

“Are you sure? What if they don’t like me?” 

Wooyoung laughed, the type of laugh that Minho loved the most. It came from his chest and bubbled out of his lips, carefree and unadulterated. 

A sudden tug caused Minho’s head to snap back, his eyes widened a fraction as he choked back a moan. Wooyoung moved to sit on Minho’s lap and ignored his towels when it fell to the floor. Minho could see the slyness in Wooyoung’s brown eyes, he knew exactly what he was doing to Minho. 

The air around them turned thick and heavy. Tension crackled in the room when Wooyoung tugged on Minho’s hair once again. 

“Please? Please go with me.” Minho could hear the pout in his voice. 

A sliver of a gasp left Minho’s lips when he felt Wooyoung lick a stripe along the exposed side of his neck beneath his jaw. Minho screwed his eyes shut and fisted his hands into the bedsheet. Wooyoung never liked it when Minho touched him without permission first. 

“Alright.” Minho rasped. “I’ll go for you.” 

Minho could feel Wooyoung’s smile on his skin. “I’m glad.” 

Suddenly Minho was falling backward onto the bed, Wooyoung towered over him with mischievousness dancing in his eyes. 

Minho didn’t stop him when Wooyoung’s hand found its way under his shirt or when his lips caught Minho’s. His eyes involuntarily closed and he didn’t say anything when Wooyoung went lower and lower, gasps and moans filled the air around them. 

Opening his eyes, Minho knew he was a mess, but Wooyoung obviously didn’t care. His warm eyes were swimming with care and affection, making Minho feel warm and fuzzy inside. 

“I’m truly the luckiest to have you,” Minho mumbled. 

Smiling, Wooyoung kissed him once again. “I know.” 

  
  
  
  
  


“Do you really have to wear that?” The extra emphasis on ‘that’ made Minho turn around from where he stood in front of the mirror to look at Wooyoung. “Those pants are too tight.”

Wooyoung stepped out of the closet as he adjusted the watch on his wrist. He wore an oversized grey box tee tucked into distressed black jeans. His hair swept over one eyebrow, which allowed Minho to see the numerous earrings on the older’s ears. The simple silver chain necklace Minho had gotten him for Christmas rested on his chest, framed by smaller and more dainty necklaces. 

Minho subconsciously frowned when he saw Wooyoung’s lips curve downwards. He turned back to the mirror and looked at his pants from different angles. The leather pants he wore were a gift from Wooyoung, the older had bought them for him when Minho tried them on but didn’t have enough money to buy it. Wooyoung said that Minho looked great in them. 

Minho glanced at his reflection one last time and couldn’t help but feel disappointed. He wanted to make Wooyoung proud to call Minho his and show him off to his friends. The red silk button-up dress shirt Minho wore was french tucked into his leather pants with a silver chain belt that was more for looks than practicality. Silver hoop earrings adorned his ears and with a hint of makeup on his face, Minho felt proud of his handiwork. But if Wooyoung didn’t like it then Minho should’ve tried harder. 

“I can wear something else if you want.” Minho didn’t mind changing, not if Wooyoung asked. 

Annoyance flashed across Wooyoung’s face as he rolled his eyes. “No, we don’t have time. I don’t want to be late.” He brushed his hand through his now honey brown hair and adjusted the rings adorning his fingers. “Honestly, you’re a little fatter than before. If your legs were more toned and muscular, then those pants would look better on you.” 

Minho’s heart plummeted to his stomach as his mouth went dry. Did Wooyoung not like him anymore? Would he toss him, Hyunjin, and Felix to the streets?

Wooyoung must’ve seen the pain on Minho’s face because the older male sighed before he approached Minho quickly and pulled the younger into a warm embrace. 

They stood like that for a second, Wooyoung gently rocked them side to side while Minho only leaned into the hug, his arms limp by his side. Wooyoung sighed again and pulled away, moving his hands to cup Minho’s face. 

“Alright, don’t cry,” Wooyoung murmured when he could see the tears in his eyes. “Hyung’s sorry, baby.” 

Sniffling, Minho nodded his head and Wooyoung laughed when a tear or two slipped down his cheeks anyway. The soft pads of Wooyoung’s thumbs swiped the tears away before his lips met Minho’s in a silent apology. Minho sighed against his lips and wished they could stay home and make out instead of going to the party. But Minho knew that Wooyoung was excited for this night so he kept quiet. 

“Here, I have a gift for you.” Wooyoung broke the embrace when he pulled away to reach for something in his pocket. A small whimper left Minho’s lips at the sudden loss of contact but his complaint was quickly forgotten when he saw the necklace Wooyoung presented him with. 

A black velvet box held a silver necklace with an oval pendant. Minho wasn’t sure what was embossed onto the pendant but it was beautiful nonetheless. 

“I- thank you,” Minho whispered, suddenly feeling vulnerable. 

A gentle chuckle left Wooyoung’s lips as the older turned Minho to face the full-length mirror again. “Let me put it on you.” 

A satisfied smile found its way onto Minho’s face as the necklace rested on his chest, Wooyoung’s criticism long since forgotten. 

“There.” Wooyoung kissed the nape of Minho’s neck before Minho turned around to kiss him properly on the lips. “Now we are for sure late.”

Minho laughed and grabbed Wooyoung’s hand to lead him out the door. 

“I’m sure they don’t mind.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Wooyoung’s friends were loud and very outgoing. Especially with a shot or two poisoning their liver. 

“Oi Minho!” A man with sharp eyes and buzz-cut blond hair called out. He pointed to Minho with his shot glass. “How come you didn’t touch a drop?” 

Minho glanced at the half-filled soju bottles scattered about the karaoke booth then at the drunkards occupying the booth itself. Two of Wooyoung’s friends were belting out to a pop song that came out recently, the birthday boy and host of the party was sitting in the center bench, laughing at how off tuned his friends were. The only two females present were making out in the corner of the booth, only breaking away periodically to smoke the cigarette one of them held. 

The man, Sungho, tilted his head expectantly, flush cheeks obvious despite the neon lights around them. “I’m still underage.” Minho laughed when Sungho's jaw dropped and he could feel Wooyoung shaking beside him. 

“Damn, Wooyoung,” Sungho whistled. “Didn’t know you had a thing for minors, Wooyoung.”

Heat rose quickly to Minho’s cheeks as Sungho barked out some laughter. Wooyoung only rolled his eyes and sipped his beer. 

“Chill, he’s only two years younger.” 

“Gah whatever. Age is only a number, right?” Sungho choked out more laughter before he proceeded to drink directly out of the soju bottle, his Adam’s apple bobbed with every gulp. “Young girls are the best, after all!”

“Don’t come to me for fucking bail money when you go to jail.” The host, Koon, yanked the soju bottle from Sungho and poured himself a shot. He quickly downed it before he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. 

“Nah, I won’t get caught,” Sungho said as the two singers, Lim and Charles, finished their song. 

“Shut your fucking mouth,” Wooyoung snapped. Minho couldn’t help but be a little mystified, he had never seen this side of Wooyoung before. “Minho, why don’t you sing something?” 

Quickly shaking his head, Minho’s cheeks reddened as everyone in the booth encouraged him. 

“At least sing one song,” Charles said as he handed Minho the microphone and the song list. 

Glancing at Wooyoung, Minho could see the older’s eyes trained on him, watching what he’d do. As he scanned the song list, he realized that he didn't know many of the songs, but with the way everyone’s eyes watched him expectantly, Minho couldn’t back down now. 

“Choose a song for me, Hyung.” Minho handed Wooyoung the song list as he got up and nervously waited for the song to play. 

Wooyoung glanced at the list with a disinterested look but took only a few seconds to pick. Using the time it took for the song to load, Minho closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. However, before he could fully calm his frantic heart, the thumping of music began to fill the booth. 

A small, grateful smile found its way onto Minho’s face as he recognized the song playing. He had danced to the relatively new hip hop song and was surprised that Wooyoung remembered. 

Minho started quiet and shy but the whoops from the others made Minho more confident and more excited. Wooyoung’s face remained neutral as he sipped on his beer, but Minho couldn’t find it within himself to care. The music washed over him and Minho found himself dancing along with it, rapping and singing easily. 

As the song ended and Minho’s high died down, he was quickly surrounded by loud cheers. Praises fell easily from their lips, smooth and encouraging like the liquor they drank. But despite their velvet words, Minho’s eyes fell towards the one person whose opinion mattered the most. A stone of disappointment sank to the bottom of Minho’s stomach when Wooyoung only stared at him with a blank expression of his face. Wooyoung broke eye contact when he leaned back and finished his beer in one gulp. 

One of the girls, Sara, jumped up and proclaimed loudly that she could definitely sing better than Minho, her girlfriend cheered her on. A small laugh was all Minho responded with as he moved out of the way and went to sit; however, he realized that his seat was stolen by Lim. Awkwardness made Minho’s stomach churn as he stood off to the side, shooting Wooyoung glances every now and then. Wooyoung refused to make eye contact with him so Minho just sighed and turned to watch Sara. Her blonde hair swooshed around her as she danced erratically to the song and posed once the song ended with a bang. 

Laughter filled the booth as Sara grinned toothily and bowed, thanking her "fans" for the support. 

Minho returned the grin when Sara turned to look at him, compliments perched on the tip of his tongue, but before he could say anything, a pair of familiar arms wrapped around his waist and pulled him down. 

A small yelp slipped past Minho’s lips as he fell into Wooyoung’s lap. Wooyoung held him close and rested his head on Minho’s shoulder. 

“H-Hyung?” Minho turned to see Wooyoung’s eyes closed, his long eyelashes fanned across his cheeks. 

“‘M sleepy,” Wooyoung muttered and Minho scoffed. 

“You were talking nonstop about this day and now you choose to nap through it?” Minho teased as he lightly poked the area between Wooyoung’s eyebrows. 

His eyes remained closed as he scrunched his eyebrows. “Yes, I’m comfortable here.”

Laughing again, Minho turned back around to watch Sara serenade her girlfriend, Dayoung. He couldn’t tell if Dayoung was red from embarrassment or from the liquor, but she seemed to enjoy the attention. 

Loud chatter erupted within the small booth as the alcohol encouraged their crass behavior. Minho only contributed every now and then, not really one to join drunk arguments. But even if Minho did want to contribute, he couldn’t really think straight. The mixture of smoke and alcohol in the air made Minho’s brain fuzzy and Wooyoung kept drawing circles on Minho’s waist, distracting him from any coherent thought. 

Dayoung and Charles stood up and snatched the microphones from Sara since she had chosen to sing both parts of a trot song meant for two by herself and tried to salvage the song from getting an F as Sungho and Sara began to bicker about who was worse at singing. 

Minho tried to laugh along when Dayoung and Charles gave up since Sara butchered the whole song already and began to dance like old grandparents, but Wooyoung’s hand started to sink lower and lower, distracting Minho from the commotion in front of him. 

Anxiety soared through Minho as Wooyoung’s hand started to massage his thigh, slowly working from his knee up. Minho glanced around nervously to the others in the booth. They all were too busy enjoying themselves with the machine to notice them. Minho was sure that they most likely wouldn’t care or even remember the next day if something were to happen but Minho didn’t want to do anything, at least not right now. 

“Hyung,” Minho whispered. 

“Hm?” Wooyoung responded, his eyes still closed. 

“Um, can you stop? I don’t feel comfortable when you do that in front of your friends.” 

When Wooyoung didn’t say anything for a few seconds, fear shot through his chest and caused his heart to ache. Turning around slowly, Minho saw Wooyoung peering at him with half-lidded eyes. 

“What? Your boyfriend can’t touch you?” 

“I- no, I mean not right now.” 

“Not right now?” Wooyoung scoffed and continued what he was doing. 

“Wooyoung-“ Minho began and tried to pry his hands off his thigh but Wooyoung only grabbed his flesh harder. 

Minho’s chest ached as his heart began to beat erratically. He couldn’t concentrate on anything else but Wooyoung’s hand on his thigh. The loud music was nothing but background noise as Minho struggled to banish the memories of the past he thought he forgot about. 

Wooyoung didn’t seem like Wooyoung anymore but instead just another faceless individual who wanted Minho for his body only, who saw Minho as an object to use for their pleasure. Nausea pooled deep within Minho’s belly as his brain slowly began to shut down. 

“I said stop!” 

Dead silence was all that surrounded them as Minho’s ears slowly and eventually stopped ringing. 

Wooyoung slowly lifted his hand off Minho’s thigh and Minho focused on finding his breath again. 

“Holy fuck, okay then,” Wooyoung muttered. 

“Are you alright, Minho?” A cautious voice suddenly spoke up after a beat of silence and that’s when Minho realized just how quiet everyone was. 

Minho’s head snapped up and his eyes widened. Everyone stared at the two of them with a mixture of confusion and concern on their faces. 

“I- um.” Choking on his words, Minho couldn’t keep his voice level. His hands shook as he slowly wrapped his arms around himself. “I need to use the restroom.” 

Standing quickly, Minho beelined out of the booth and practically ran to the nearest bathroom, his legs shook the entire way. 

He slammed the door open and a sigh of relief ghosted past his lips once he realized that the restroom was unoccupied. Running a trembling hand through his hair, Minho stared at himself in the mirror as an attempt to recollect himself. 

His hair was all over the place due to the number of times Minho ran his hands through it. His eyes red and glassy from unshed tears. 

Turning away from the mirror, Minho leaned against the counter and pressed his palms against his eyes. Clenching his jaw until it hurt, Minho used the pain to distract himself from the memories that polluted his mind and instead focused on collecting his scrambled thoughts. 

“What’s wrong with you?” A familiar voice hissed. 

Minho’s head snapped to glance at Wooyoung who stood before him. Any stranger would think that Wooyoung was just concerned, but Minho knew otherwise. Wooyoung clenched his jaw and kept his hands in his pants pockets, his eyes black and unwavering. 

Minho wrapped his arms around himself once again and wanted to disappear into nothingness. 

“Nothing’s wrong,” Minho mumbled as he looked away, not wanting to see the disappointment swimming in his boyfriend’s eyes. 

“Nothing?” Wooyoung whispered so quietly Minho barely heard it over the hum of the fan. “Then why’d you scream and run away?” 

“I just-“ Minho licked his dry lips and stared at the tiles below his shoes. “You weren’t stopping when I told you to. You know about my past and-“

“Oh my God.” 

Minho glanced at Wooyoung through his lashes to see the older throw his hands up exasperatedly.

“Are you really comparing me to those rapists?” 

“What?! No-“ Fear ran through Minho’s heart as he tried to back away from Wooyoung but the sink counter only dug further into his back. 

“Then what are you trying to imply?” Wooyoung marched up to Minho and grabbed his chin. “I’m your boyfriend. I’ve done worse to you than grabbing your thigh.” 

“Yeah, but that’s was at home and-“

“And what?” Wooyoung’s nostrils flared as he leaned close to Minho, “now my friends think I abuse you or some shit. Do I abuse you, Minho?” 

“No, you don’t-“ 

“I do everything for you.” Minho could feel Wooyoung’s breath fan across his cheeks and could smell the beer he drank. Minho wanted nothing more than to throw up and go home. “You have food everyday, new clothes whenever you want, and all I ask for is your love, that’s it! And how do you repay me? By fucking embarrassing me in front of my closest friends. Are you proud of yourself?” 

A tentative shake of his head was all Minho managed to do before he felt sharp pain at the back of his head. Clenching his eyes shut, Minho tried his best not to yelp out in pain as Wooyoung tugged his hair. 

“No, that wasn’t what I was trying to do.” Self-hatred clouded Minho’s mind at how weak he felt, how powerless he was. 

“Then act like it.” He spat. 

With an irritated sigh, Wooyoung released Minho’s chin and hair before he took a few steps back. They stood like that before Minho’s hiccups and sniffles broke the silence that hung heavily between them. 

Relief flooded Minho’s body once Wooyoung leaned against the opposite wall. He shouldn’t feel this way- he shouldn’t be glad that his boyfriend was nowhere close to him- but he could only choke back his disgust whenever Wooyoung approached him. Minho really was the worst boyfriend. 

“Okay, okay. I’m sorry.” 

The soft patter of Wooyoung’s sneakers against the tiles sent electrocuting fear up Minho’s spine and caused him to further press against the counter. A cold hand brushed against Minho’s cheek and he couldn’t help but flinch away. 

“I said I’m sorry, baby.” 

Pain filled Minho’s heart, but he refused to look at his boyfriend. He had the right to remain upset and not forgive him, right?

“Minho?” The pout was audible in his tone. “Please forgive me.” 

Minho fought with every ounce of strength he had to keep his resolve and to not forgive Wooyoung right away like how he always did. 

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” 

A pair of lips suddenly met Minho’s, his eyes widened in shock. A small gasp from surprise was all Wooyoung needed to slip his tongue past Minho’s lips. Disgust was the only thing Minho could think about when he could taste the beer Wooyoung drank earlier that night. 

Wooyoung broke away to trail kisses down Minho’s neck as the urge to cry overwhelmed Minho again. 

“No, stop.” Minho’s voice shook as he pathetically tried to push Wooyoung away. Not only was Wooyoung stronger than Minho, but Minho was exhausted from the rollercoaster of emotions he was on the whole day. He didn’t have the strength to put up much of a fight. 

“It’s alright,” Wooyoung whispered as he found a particularly sensitive area behind Minho’s ear and caused him to gasp from the sensation. “I’ll show you how sorry I am.” 

“Hyung, please,” Minho begged before he screwed his eyes shut when Wooyoung’s hand found its way into his pants. 

“Of course, Hyung got you,” Wooyoung mumbled into Minho’s skin, misinterpreting what Minho wanted. He grabbed Minho’s waist painfully and pushed him harder against the counter. “I’ll take care of you.” 

“I-“ Minho began but didn’t finish. His train of thought quickly derailed as Wooyoung started to move his hand. Disgust and self-hatred towards himself grew exponentially as he felt himself grow hard despite how he didn’t want Wooyoung to continue. 

Minho’s pleas for Wooyoung to stop quickly died on his lips as he felt himself inch closer to release. If his body was reacting his way, then that must mean that he secretly wanted it, right? 

Or maybe he really was the whore everyone told him he was.

Wooyoung’s hand worked efficiently to get Minho off. Having done it before, it didn’t take long for Minho to choke back a sob as he came into Wooyoung’s hands. Once Wooyoung finished with Minho, he leaned forward to wash his hands, unbeknownst to the inner turmoil that brewed in Minho’s mind. 

“Let’s go home,” Wooyoung backed away from the sink and tugged Minho along with him. 

“What about the party?” Minho felt dirty. Dirty, dirty, fucking dirty. 

A scoff left Wooyoung’s lips as he pulled Minho closer so that they could leave the bathroom together. “That’s not important. I’m not done with you just yet.” He whispered in Minho’s ear. 

Wooyoung’s warm breath sent shivers down Minho’s spine and bile up his throat. 

Grabbing his hand, Wooyoung led them out of the bathroom with a proud smile on his face. Minho only kept his eyes trained on the floor and distracted himself by counting the cracks in the tiles.

The voices of Wooyoung’s friends faintly registered in the back of Minho’s mind as Wooyoung made an excuse that Minho wasn’t feeling well. 

Minho wanted to scream and tell everyone what had happened and that he didn’t want to be anywhere near Wooyoung, but he couldn’t. No one would believe Minho. It’s not like Minho had tried very hard to make Wooyoung stop. Plus that’s what boyfriends do, right? That’s what being in a relationship is supposed to be like, right? 

The thoughts swirling in Minho’s mind were chaotic and unorganized. They polluted his mind like the trash in the ocean, suffocating any coherent thought as it pathetically tried to bubble to the surface of his subconsciousness. 

“What would I do without you?” Wooyoung whispered to Minho before he kissed him long and hard. 

“I don’t know,” Minho responded, almost choking on the words. 

’I don’t know if I love you’ was what Minho actually wanted to say. 

But he didn’t. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Weeks passed since the karaoke birthday party Wooyoung’s friend, Koon, hosted. 

Wooyoung only got a few texts about that night. No one seemed to have noticed anything wrong. 

No one knew how Minho no longer wanted Wooyoung anywhere near him but Wooyoung still got his way with Minho. Since the karaoke party, Wooyoung felt that he no longer needed to ask Minho for anything.

Because that’s all Minho is good for. Sex and pleasure. A glorified sex doll.

Exhaustion made Minho feel ten tons heavier despite the fact that he had just woken up. The rising sun started to shine in his face and successfully wake him up for the day. Wooyoung laid on Minho’s naked chest, one hand laid near Minho’s head and the other rested next to his face on Minho’s stomach. The sun made its way onto Wooyoung’s flawless face and Minho moved to shade his eyes in hope that Wooyoung wouldn’t wake soon ‘cause if he did, Minho would be forced to kiss him good morning and Minho wanted nothing more than to run away from the man he shared his bed with.

As much as Minho wanted it, life did not hear Minho’s pleas. Wooyoung sturred before he moved to nuzzle his face in the crook of Minho’s neck. Choking back his disgust, Minho carded his fingers through Wooyoung’s hair.

“Good morning.” Wooyoung’s hoarse voice broke the serene silence around them.

“Good morning,” Minho mumbled back. 

The radio was next to wake up. The local news station muttered about a new murder case plaguing the city. A young lady had killed her husband when he took advantage of her when she was drunk. 

Wooyoung reached over Minho to turn off the radio. He croaked about how annoying and boring the news was before he kissed Minho. Minho only nodded back when Woooung pulled away and his eyes never strayed from the ceiling as he thought about the young lady. 

The chill suddenly brought Minho back from his thoughts when Wooyoung got off of him to go to the bathroom, the bed dipped before it sprung back. It gave Minho enough time to pick up the broken pieces of his heart and to put on his facade of emotions again. 

Minho heard the shower start the moment his feet hit the cold wooden floor. As Minho took a second to admire how the shadows caressed his arms, an idea flowered in his mind- a solution to his problems- and for the first time in a long time, a real smile tugged at the corners of his lip. 

Tiptoeing out of the room and past Hyunjin’s and Felix’s shared bedroom, Minho headed to the kitchen. Minho was glad that the other two were heavy sleepers. He would never forgive himself if they found out what he was about to do. 

Minho’s slender hand wrapped around one of his favorite knives. It cut through meat well, something Minho was quite aware of since he was in charge of cooking in this household. The grey knife felt familiar against his cold skin and he realized that he quite liked how the knife felt when he held it in his fist, the knife pointing downwards. He had never held a knife like that before, but today was the beginning of many firsts.

He made his way towards his room as he hummed a nameless tune, before shutting up completely as he entered the bathroom. Hiding the knife behind his back, Minho met his reflection’s eyes and gave himself an encouraging smile. The dark shadows under his eyes looked worse than normal and on any regular day, Wooyoung would scold Minho for looking ugly.

“Minho?” Wooyoung called from behind the frosted shower door, busy with shampooing his hair. 

Minho didn’t respond but instead slid the door open to join Wooyoung. He wrapped his arms around the older male, the knife positioned in front of his heart.

“Can’t get enough of me?” Smugness coated Wooyoung’s words. Weeks ago, Minho would have blushed and mumbled a quiet “yes,” but now, Minho only held back his disgust. 

Leaning close to whisper into Wooyoung’s ear, Minho couldn’t help but smile. “No, I’ve had enough of your shit.” 

And it was so easy. The knife slid through his skin and into his heart like he was butter left outside on a warm summer day. 

Wooyoung only choked on his breath before crumpling against Minho's chest, blood splattered against the wall and dripped down the drain. 

Wooyoung was Minho’s first lover and his first murder. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Wow,” Joshua trailed off as he spaced out before he snapped back to the present. “So after you got rid of Wooyoung’s body, you fled from Seoul, which is where you met Gran?” 

“Pretty much.” Minho sighed and picked up his mug. His reflection stared back at him in the brown tea, exhaustion was clearly written across his face. 

“I gotta ask you one thing though,” Joshua said then continued after Minho made a noise to prompt that it was okay to ask. “What’s with you and murdering your significant other?” 

Minho balked and nearly choked on his now cold tea. “What are you talking about?” 

“Well, you murdered Wooyoung and you tried to assassinate Jisung so clearly you must’ve had something going on because this can’t just be a coincidence.” 

“Joshua,” Minho’s inhale was shaky. “First of all, my murderous tendencies are unrelated to any relationship I may form.” Joshua and Granny laughed but Minho just continued as if they didn’t utter a noise. “And secondly, Jisung and I have nothing special going on.” 

“Oh phooey!” Granny scoffed and sent Joshua chuckling again. “Don’t you dare lie to us, boy. Especially after everything we saw with our own eyes. There is clearly something going on between the two of you.” 

“Granny, no-” Minho tried to correct but Granny was already on a tangent. 

“Oh Joshua, my great-grandchildren are going to be a part of the royal family!” Granny sent Minho a teasing smirk, which only served to make Minho nauseous. 

“Minho really knows how to climb the social ladder.” Joshua laughed. “Literally going from rags to riches. But you know Minho, it wouldn’t hurt to work for your wealth.” 

“No,” Granny only smiled wider when Minho’s mouth opened and closed pathetically. “I think marrying into wealth is a _brilliant_ idea. My Minho is so clever!” 

“It’s not what you think!” Minho finally managed to say but it was clear that no one believed him especially when Granny reached over the table to pinch his cheeks. 

“Aigo,” Granny tsked. “You need to eat more. There’s nothing for me to pinch.” 

Joshua laughed again when Minho only huffed and sat back indignantly. Joshua and Granny didn’t seem to notice, but Minho could make out faint laughter from a room away. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Good news, Minho.” 

Minho looked up from where he squatted over Joshua’s cabbages to see Joshua himself approach him with an easy-going smile. Minho was trying to help around the farm but it wasn’t going too well. Minho didn’t have a green thumb, that was always Hyunjin’s area of expertise. 

“What is it?” Minho rose and his knees cracked as he wiped the sweat from his brow. 

“Gran just got wind that the hired help is supposed to arrive a day before the party so you’ll be on your way in a few hours.” 

“To get acquainted with everything.” 

“Exactly.” Joshua’s smile went from easy-going to excited. “This is it, Minho. Everything is about to change.” 

“For the better, hopefully,” Minho grumbled as he yanked the gardening gloves off. 

Joshua chuckled and gave Minho a few pats on the shoulder. “Have some faith in your lover, alright?” 

Minho gave Joshua a glare but ultimately decided not to argue. It only made the teasing worse. 

“Should I get ready then?” 

Joshua nodded as they both started to make their way back to the house. Emily stood in the doorway and watched both of them approach her. She waved when she noticed that they were close. Minho gave her a small wave back. 

“Yeah, you’ll be leaving tonight. Gran and I will review everything you need to know. Just make sure to clean well and remember to be polite when you get there,” Joshua said as they reached the house.

“When am I not polite?” Minho rolled his eyes and ruffled Emily’s hair much to her annoyance.

Granny, having heard Minho, turned around from where she was at the stove. “Please, Minho. Do not lie. That is a terrible habit to form.” 

Sighing, Minho moved to wash his hands in the kitchen sink as they all laughed, including Emily. “I can never catch a break, can I?” 

“Of course not.” Granny’s eyes twinkled in amusement as she handed him an apple. Minho took the fruit gratefully. Working in the fields had Minho starving. 

When Minho sat at his usual seat at the kitchen table, Emily immediately sat in front of him and began to quiz him on the different rules of dining etiquette. Minho was quite proud that he had learned all of the diverse rules he had to follow but Emily was also quite keen on finding something Minho didn’t know. It was as if she found immense joy in proving Minho wrong. 

Minho answered her questions easily and breezed through her quizzes. Joshua and Granny took it amongst themselves to cook their last meal together, seeming to cook a big one, and Minho could only sit back and watch. Even though Minho was better at handling a knife than Joshua, Granny trusted Joshua more, which hurt Minho’s pride but he decided against arguing because the last time he did that, Granny tried to stab him with her carving knife. 

Dinner was lively, much more so than what it normally would be. Emily talked amicably about a novel she just finished, both Joshua and Granny maked the appropriate responses she was looking for while Minho sat back and just watched. 

It was bittersweet for Minho as he enjoyed Granny’s cooking for what was probably the last time in a long time. His heart felt heavy when he rose to clear the table but a hand on his wrist stopped him from getting very far. 

“Leave the cleaning to Joshua,” Granny said as she stood. “We have some last-minute preparations to do.” 

“Not gonna use the excuse that I need more practice in order to get me to clean?” Minho chuckled and let Granny grab his arm and guide him to the bathroom. 

“That was not an excuse. It’s a valid reason,” She said as she sat Minho down on the toilet. 

Minho rolled his eyes playfully as Granny started to look through the cabinet for something. “What are we doing here?” Minho asked as Emily pointed to what Granny was apparently looking for.

Granny placed a bottle on the sink counter before she turned to face Minho. “We’re dying your hair, and make sure to wear these at all times but don’t fall asleep in them.” 

Minho looked at the small container she handed him and turned it over. “What is it?” 

“Colored lens,” Emily said this time. “It’s for that.” She pointed to Minho’s left eye close enough to make him finch away.

“How the hell do I put it on?” 

Emily sighed and shared a look with Granny. Minho didn’t appreciate it. 

“Do I have to teach you everything?” Emily rolled her eyes. 

“Don’t be a brat, young lady.”

“Yes, Emily. Most men are useless.” Granny shook her head slightly. 

“Excuse you, I’m right here.” Minho squinted his eyes at the two of them as Granny wrapped a towel around his neck. 

“Unfortunately.” Emily snatched the small container from Minho’s grasp and unscrewed the lid. “Let me teach you how to put it on and take care of it.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Do you have everything?” Granny asked for the third time. 

Minho resisted the urge to roll his eyes and instead gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile.

He wasn’t exactly sure if it worked but Granny pulled him into a hug. Minho gave her back a few pats before she pulled away. 

“You listen here, boy. You better do well. I expect you to come back here first thing so I can scold you if you don’t do a good job.” Tears welled in her eyes before Minho moved to wipe them gently away. “Make sure to bring Hyunjin and Felix when this whole thing is over. And Jisung here too.” she sniffled. 

“Of course, Granny.” Minho gave her arms a light squeeze before he took a step back. 

Giving Joshua a glance, they nodded goodbye before Minho glanced at Emily. She held her father’s hand and gave Minho a tentative wave goodbye. Minho ruffled her long hair before he made his way to the cab. 

A chilly breeze blew through Minho’s chocolate brown hair as he pulled his tan plaid coat closer to his body. Adjusting the duffle bag hanging from his shoulder, he glanced over his shoulder and gave them a wave before he entered the cab. 

“Everything set, sir?” A male with dark skin and stark white eyes said as he adjusted his flat cap and looked at Minho through the rearview mirror. 

Minho sat back and propped his foot over his knee. His white sneakers were definitely something he wasn't used to. Emily insisted that _normal_ people didn’t wear all black ensembles and Minho wanted to argue, but Granny said that they already gathered clothes for Minho. Minho’s guilty conscience made him sit through the fashion lesson Emily conducted with a little too much enthusiasm. 

“Yeah, I’m ready,” Minho said and the cab spurred to life shortly after. Joshua’s quaint farm began to grow smaller and smaller the farther they got and Minho had to drag his eyes away as the scenery outside the window slowly became unfamiliar. 

“It’s going to be a long ride,” Minho mumbled to himself and played with the ring on his right hand. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“We’re here.” 

Minho blinked out of his half-asleep state and saw it had only been thirty minutes since they left. He glanced out of the window to see them outside of a grandiose estate. It seemed to stretch for ages with no other buildings in sight. Light embedded into the pathway illuminated the drive towards the front entrance and Minho couldn’t help but feel bitter. People have enough money to splurge on enormous estates yet there are others who don’t know where their next meals will come from. 

There were three cars ahead of them until Minho would reach the front entrance. “Really fancy place,” Minho mumbled. 

The driver gave him a weird look and Minho found his eyes to be a little unnerving. “You’ve never been here before?” 

Minho shook his head. “No, this is my first day working here.” 

“Good luck, bro.” The driver said as he drove the car ahead. 

Minho paid no attention to the driver and instead focused on the place he would be staying for the next couple of days. He was sure that in the day, the estate would be a lot more impressive. 

Finally, the car rolled to a stop in front and a man wearing a crisp suit with a blonde undercut approached Minho’s door. Once the window opened all the way, the man bent at the hip and stuck his hand out. “Letter?” 

Minho blinked a few times before he realized what he was asking. Pulling out an envelope Granny gave him earlier from his inner coat pocket, Minho handed it to the man. Minho knew what exactly was in it. The confirmation letter and his other “credentials” were completely fraudulent but no one here knew except Minho. 

The man scanned the letter then handed it back. “Welcome, Minho-ssi.” Stepping back, the man allowed Minho to get out of the vehicle.

“Thanks for the ride,” Minho said as he shouldered his bag. 

“No problem. I owe Granny anyway.” The driver shrugged.

Minho chuckled. “Yeah, me too.” 

The moment Minho left the cab, a strong gust of wind greeted Minho. The cold nipped at his cheeks as Minho approached the group standing off to the side, clearly the other hired help for the party. 

There were about twenty total and were dressed identically to Minho, the same knee-length coat overtop a thick underlayer and casual shoes. Some even wore hats or skirts but they all had the same quality to them that clearly stated that they weren’t scraping by. 

It wasn’t long before the man from earlier returned. He glanced at his watch before he gestured for everyone to follow him. 

“My name is Christian and I am the overseer for this event. Thank you for arriving on time.” The man, Christian, began as he led them past the main entrance and to a small anomalous entrance on the side. “This is the side entrance which you all will use. Avoid using the main entrance at all costs.” 

The simple stone door led directly to a large kitchen with shiny stainless steel appliances lining the wall. The kitchen island had many features attached to it, which piqued Minho’s interest but he kept his inquiries to himself. 

“This is the kitchen. Some of you will work alongside the chefs but all of you will interact with them at one point so be sure to remember what they tell you to do,” Christian said as he led them out of the kitchen and into a large room. 

Many of them gasped as they took in the large ballroom and Minho couldn’t blame them. Chandeliers hung from the high ceiling, twinkling and illuminating the grand room. Gold details embellished the walls and curved around the arches. Along the length of the right wall, the archways framed glass doors. Beyond the doors was a garden filled with plants of every color and Minho could clearly see how impressive it was despite the crude lighting. 

Christian led them out of the ballroom and into the main hallway where he then turned to more discrete hallways and up a flight of stairs. 

“I’m going to get lost.” Someone whispered behind Minho and her friend hummed an agreement. 

Eventually, they turned a corner and were greeted to a hallway of doors. “Here are your rooms for your time here,” Christian said with a monotonous voice. “Please be up and ready around 7 am.” 

Quiet cheers and thankful groans erupted from the group and Minho couldn’t help but agree. They all filtered into the hallway and quickly picked their rooms. Minho, who wasn’t fast enough to snag the room closest to the beginning of the hallway, had to pick one further down. 

The room itself was small and had its own bathroom. Two twin-sized beds rested against the wall with a small writing desk between. A light fixture hung above a chair and its adjacent bookshelf. Placing his bag on the bed closest to the door, Minho crossed the small room to look out of the window. 

To his surprise, he was right above the garden that connected to the ballroom. What really confused Minho, however, was the obscure pattern in which the hedges were cut. Although they were cut neatly, it was not symmetrical. 

“No, it’s not a garden,” Minho realized. “It’s a maze.” 

A small gazebo resided in the middle of the maze and although multiple pathways lead to it, Minho couldn’t decipher the correct path to get to the gazebo. 

The sight, for some odd reason, appeared vaguely familiar, but Minho ignored that thought in favor of squinting his eyes and continued to stare at the maze as if it would suddenly reveal the answer. But before the plants could miraculously show Minho the way, a knock on the door startled Minho from his train of thoughts and caused him to turn around almost accusingly to the door. 

“What?” Minho asked, stepping away from the window and letting the curtains fall back into their original position.

“Do you have a roommate yet? All other rooms are full.” The person behind the door said, their voice quivered slightly. 

Minho glanced at the empty bed next to him. “I do, sorry.” 

The person behind the door audibly sighed. “Ah, that’s alright.” 

When the person shuffled away, Minho released a sigh of his own and took off his coat then the knife strapped to his arm. He slipped the knife under his pillow then removed his turtleneck, rolled out the kinks in his neck and shoulders, then placed the garments across the back of the chair. 

He gave one last glance around the room before he kicked off his shoes and fished out the vial in his pocket. Giving the murky liquid one last look, he placed it on the bedside table before he shimmied out of his pants. His hands shook slightly as he pulled back the covers and Minho knew exactly what was making him nervous, but Minho shoved that thought to the back of his mind. 

Staring at the dark ceiling, Minho counted his own heartbeats and willed himself to get some sleep even if it was only for an hour or so. Minho was never the best at falling asleep in foreign environments. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho woke up to a bright light shining directly in his eyes. 

“Fucking lovely,” Minho grumbled to himself. 

Shading his eyes, Minho pushed onto his forearms to see what had woke him up and silently cursed himself when he realized that there was a small gap between the curtains which was enough for the rising sun to make its way into Minho’s room and bother him. 

Plopping back onto the bed, Minho rubbed his tired eyes before he counted to five and when he got to five, he ripped the warm blanket off of his body. 

Once Minho finished his business in the bathroom, Minho rummaged through his bag and cried a little inside. He should’ve stuck with black clothing despite what Granny and Emily said. After digging through a little more, Minho finally found a black button-up with thin red and white vertical stripes and couldn't help the pleased hum he let out. He rolled up the sleeves then wore black jeans. What Minho didn’t expect, however, were the holes where the knee should’ve been. He only realized they were there when he mistakenly shoved his foot into the hole. 

“Why in the world would anyone buy pre-ripped jeans?” Minho sighed but still proceeded to wear the pants. 

Before he left, Minho adjusted the watch on his wrist and grabbed his knife, which he strapped around his torso this time. Better safe than sorry. 

When Minho stepped out of his room, most were already out and waiting outside their door. Perhaps Minho spent more time than what he thought picking out what to wear. 

“What are we waiting for?” Minho asked the person rooming next to him. 

The two girls turned around, eyes widening as they scanned Minho. Minho only arched an eyebrow as they continued to stare. 

“Oh!” One of them suddenly said, her high ponytail swooshing behind her. “Well, we’re waiting for someone to tell us what we’re going to do.” She trailed off as her cheeks reddened. Her friend laughed behind a manicured hand. 

Minho made a noise of understanding before he quickly scanned everyone else. The others were standing about, most already forming cliques and making new friends, but no one seemed to know where to go. 

“We should probably go to the kitchen but we don’t know where it is.” The other girl spoke up. She was blonde and had thick faux lashes. 

“You don’t know where the kitchen is?” Minho asked and nearly scoffed. “Were you not paying attention last night?”

This time, both of their faces reddened. “N-no. It was kind of confusing when Christian was guiding us.” 

Minho didn’t say anything else before he took off with a quick glance at his watch. Fifteen minutes until seven, Minho could make it in time. 

But he didn’t get very far until he felt someone tug at the back of his shirt. 

“Wait!” 

Minho turned around to see the same girls giving him pouts. “What?”

“Do you know where you’re going?” 

Minho shrugged his shirt out of her grasp. “Yeah, obviously. I was paying attention.” And without saying anything else, Minho was on his way but this time with two pairs of feet trailing behind him. He could hear them whisper amongst themselves and periodically caught them talking about him, but Minho couldn’t really find any fucks to give. 

“No, _you_ ask him!” One of them hissed a little too loudly. 

“No! It’s your turn!” The other hissed back. 

“Bree, I asked las-”

“My name is Minho.” Minho turned around and sent them both an unimpressed look, which caused both to look as if they’ve just seen a ghost. Sighing, Minho was about to turn around until he realized that everyone else had been following him. 

Muttering a curse for no one else but himself to hear, Minho walked down the stairs and tried to ignore the annoying girls talking about him. 

“Fuck, Eunbi. He’s really fucking cute.” The one named Bree said to her friend. 

“Do you think he’s single?” 

“I sure hope he is.” 

“I’m not,” Minho said as he rounded a corner and opened the door to the kitchen. 

“Of course he’s taken!” 

“Bree, shut the fuck up!” 

“Good morning,” Christian said as he checked his watch. “You’re just on time…” He trailed off. 

“Minho. It’s Minho.” 

“Right,” Christian nodded his thanks and handed Minho a plate of food. “You’re the only one on time, Minho.” 

“Hey!” Bree’s friend, Eunbi, spoke up, a pout on her annoying lips. “We got here seconds after Minho.” 

The rest of the hired help eventually filtered through the kitchen and around Christian with various levels of confusion and exhaustion clouding their features. 

“Exactly, seconds too late.” Eunbi looked like she was about to protest but before she could, Christian clapped his hands, gaining the attention of everyone there. “Grab a plate of food, we don’t have anytime to waste.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho sighed and leaned against the door that led to the garden. Only one of the three doors that led to the garden was open but the massive door was enough to provide a cool breeze. They had spent hours going over their roles for the party and it was a lot more extensive than what Minho had originally thought. 

Minho unscrewed his bottle of water and barely managed to take a sip before someone approached him. 

“Hey, you’re Minho, right?” 

The person who had approached was a bit taller than Minho but looked about his age. The first thing Minho noticed about him was his black hair parted above his right eyebrow. Oh, and his long neck. 

“Yes?” Minho narrowed his eyes at him. What’d he want?

The boy laughed and put his hands up as if surrendering. “I’m Changmin and I was just wondering if you wanted to join the rest of us. We’re going to celebrate a bit since we won’t be able to join the fun tomorrow.” He laughed but Minho didn’t know what was so amusing. 

Minho glanced behind Changmin to see people disappear into the kitchen. Never one for social events, Minho really wanted to say no, but he remembered Granny mentioning that sometimes saying no was considered rude and he did promise to be polite. 

Minho fought back a sigh and instead nodded. “Sure.” 

A wide grin stretched across Changmin’s face and revealed a dimple. It was only on one side. “Great! Let’s go right now.” 

Pushing off the door frame, Minho gave the garden one last glance before he left. 

“It’s really pretty,” Changmin said suddenly, having caught Minho looking at the garden. 

Minho shrugged. “Yeah, I guess.” 

“You guess?” He laughed. “Why do you look at it so much if you’re not sure?” 

The short hairs at the base of Minho’s neck stood on edge. Was he watching? “There’s just something about it that captures my attention,” Minho said. It wasn’t exactly a lie but it wasn’t the full truth either. Something about the garden made Minho’s brain itch like there was something about it that was familiar yet Minho couldn’t quite place it. 

“It captures your attention because it’s _pretty_.” Changmin gave Minho one last smile before they entered the kitchen. 

The kitchen wasn’t crowded but it certainly wasn’t spacious. It was clear that people had been consuming alcohol by the loud chatter and the liquor that hung in the air. 

Minho didn’t want to be here. 

“There you are, Changmin!” Someone pushed past a few people to reach them. He was on the taller side but wore a boyish grin. His tomato red hair stood out amongst everyone. 

“Sunwoo!” Changmin cheered, eyes crinkled to crescents. “Meet Minho, he’s my friend.” 

Minho nearly balked when Changmin called him his friend but Minho decided to not question it. “Hey,” Minho said simply. 

Sunwoo only grinned wider and shoved a full beer into Minho’s hand. “Any friend of Changmin is my friend too.” 

Minho glanced at the brown bottle that was now in his hand. He was never a fan of beer. “Where’d you get this?” 

“Don’t worry about it.” Sunwoo laughed before he pushed both Changmin and Minho toward the kitchen island. “They’re playing games, let’s watch!” 

“Games? What kind of games would you play in the kitchen?” Minho immediately thought of something having to do with knives. That would be something he could get behind. 

Changmin laughed but Sunwoo was already too engrossed in the two people in front. “Drinking games, duh.” 

Peering over someone’s shoulder, Minho watched as two people on opposite sides of the island started to chug their beer as quickly as they could. Minho watched in disgust as beer dripped down their chins. 

“Is this supposed to be fun?” Minho asked Changmin. 

Changmin stopped mid-cheer to give Minho a weird look before he broke out in laughter. “Yeah! You’ve never been to a college party or something? People do this all the time.” 

“I’ve never been.” 

“Wait, really?” Changmin’s smile slipped from his face. “Then what do you do on the weekends?” 

“I murder people.”

Changbin’s eyes disappeared as he laughed. “Right, normal weekend plans.”

“I found vodka!” Someone suddenly shouted and people erupted into cheers. A tall male walked out of the pantry carrying a large bottle filled with clear liquid. “Let’s have a contest to see who can shoot down ten shots without a chaser!” 

More cheers erupted all around Minho and Minho couldn’t help but not get what the commotion was all about. The man with the vodka hopped onto the kitchen island but had to squat in order to not hit his head on the hood. 

“We need two people,” the guy spoke up, voice booming around them. “Who’s gonna do it?” 

A guy, who was easily one of the tallest in the kitchen, was pushed to the front. He was moderately built and had a brown fade haircut. His bright and confident smile had his friends whooping for him as he rolled out his shoulders.

“Oh, tough competition.” Changmin held a hand over his open mouth. “I feel bad for whoever’s going against him.” 

“You think so?” Minho thought he looked like a pushover. 

“For sure.” Changmin nodded. 

“Who wants to go against- wait what’s your name?” The guy with the vodka asked the contestant. “Who wants to go against Duke?” He said for all to hear just as a few others returned from the bar with twenty shot glasses and placed them on the kitchen island. 

Minho watched Duke with little interest. He wore an oversized olive green shirt with a simple silver chain. The end of a tattoo peeked out from under the sleeve, dark ink contrasted against his tan skin. 

“I volunteer Minho!” 

Snapping back to the present, a warm hand wrapped around his upper arm as another slipped his unconsumed beer from his hand. He was yanked to the front of the crowd without any time to even mutter a protest. Minho glanced back to see Changmin staring wide-eyed at him and Sunwoo giving him a thumbs up. 

_Fucking betrayal. This is why I have trust issues._

“Oh ho ho!” The vodka guy cheered as others gasped. Everyone, including Duke, was looking at Minho with confusion plainly written on their faces. The attention made Minho squirm. “Minho! Our brave second contestant!” 

“I don’t wanna do it,” Minho mumbled but no one paid him any mind. 

“The rules are simple,” the vodka guy explained as he passed the bottle to a girl and she began to fill the shot glasses. “Just shoot them down one after the other. Oh, and there’s no chaser so have fun!” 

Minho peered at the clear liquid and vowed to get Sunwoo back. The ten shot glasses glimmered under the white lights and smelled like straight rubbing alcohol. 

“On your mark!” 

Duke wrapped a hand around a shot glass and gave Minho a teasing smirk. Minho only looked at him with disinterest. 

“Get set!” 

“Go Minho!” 

“Go!”

Duke was the first to down the shot. He flashed his Adam's apple before he slammed the glass down with a wince. His friends cheered loudly and Minho wanted nothing more for them to shut the hell up. 

“Easy!” Duke cheered before reaching for his second. 

“Come on, Minho!” The vodka guy said with an awkward smile. “At least try.” 

Sighing, Minho picked up a glass. “Alright.” 

With one smooth motion, the liquid slid down Minho’s throat easily and he hardly felt the burn. Slamming the glass down, Minho picked the next shot and downed it just as easily. 

“Wait, Minho is actually pretty good.” 

Minho didn’t think twice before he picked up the third and swallowed the liquor. 

_How is this a game? It’s so boring._

Minho glanced ahead when he finished his sixth shot and watched as Duke coughed down his fourth. 

“How the hell are you this good?” Duke managed to say between coughs and wiped off the vodka on his chin. Minho only shrugged and downed the seventh shot. 

The cheers got louder as Minho approached the last and final shot. Minho barely felt any different and silently prayed that his liver was still functional. 

Holding the last glass, Minho gave Duke a little smile before emptying the contents. The people around him cheered and one person grabbed his shoulders to give him a little shake. 

“You’re a legend!” Changmin practically screamed in his ear, voice high pitched from excitement. “How’d you do that?”

“I have-” Minho blinked and a flashback to all the times he was forced to drink with creepy old men flashed before his eyes. “-uh, a lot of experience.” 

“You’re so cool,” Sunwoo’s brown eyes seemed to sparkle as he reached for Minho’s hands and held them. 

“Um, thanks.” Minho gritted his teeth and tried to force his erratic heart to slow to its original pace. It had been a long time since Minho had consumed this much alcohol so he had forgotten how terrible anxiety mixed with alcohol. It especially didn’t help when people started to crowd around him with their loud and excited voices. 

“Our winner is Minho!” Vodka Guy said as he gestured towards Minho. More cheers and even some clapping erupted around Minho, much to his dismay. 

_I need to get out of here._

“Who wants to try? Minho made it seem easy.” 

Seizing the opportunity, Minho grabbed Sunwoo’s wrists and pulled him to the front. “I nominate Sunwoo.” 

“Oh? Sunwoo? Will you be able to follow after Minho’s victory?” 

“I- I can try.” Sunwoo shot Minho a glare but Minho only gave the boy a grin and mouthed ‘revenge.’ 

When the crowd’s interest redirected to the new drinking game before them, Minho used the opportunity to slip away. He immediately felt relief wash over him the moment the cool air in the hallway touched his warm skin. 

Minho took his time to walk back to his room and simply observed the extensive hallways. The main hallways had artwork hung along the walls, simple wall sconces illuminated the paintings and the maroon wallpaper. Dark wood periodically broke the monotony by arching overhead and connecting to the other side. 

Everything was so fucking familiar but Minho didn’t know _why._

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Minho surmised the deja vu to be the product of the alcohol. But when Minho turned the corner and immediately stopped in his tracks, he knew what he saw before him was not due to alcohol. 

Two figures walked down the hallway and were close enough that their arms brushed occasionally. They wore plain clothing- t-shirts and jeans- but one was clearly taller than the other. Both were blonde, but the taller person had long hair and the shorter’s hair was more on the grey side. 

Minho knew exactly who they were. 

Marching towards them soundlessly, Minho opened the door closest to them and grabbed the backs of their collars to shove them into the closet. 

One of them yelped which only served to confirm Minho’s beliefs. 

“What the hell are you both doing here?” Minho hissed as he swung the door closed behind them and flicked the lights on. “Are you out of your damn minds?” 

Hyunjin and Felix could only stare wide-eyed as Minho silently fumed. Minho’s anger simmered beneath his skin like hot oil but it quickly died the longer Minho realized that they were alright, alive, and well. 

“Hyung?” Hyunjin whispered as if he was speaking to himself. 

“Oh my God, it really is him,” Felix said before he pulled Minho into a hug. 

Another pair of arms were quick to wrap around Minho as Minho struggled to wrap his arms around both of them. Relief was quick to flood Minho’s body as he breathed in their familiar scents and subconsciously relaxed in their hold. They felt like home. 

“Seriously, what are you two doing here?” Minho asked as they pulled away. He could feel his eyes water but he refused to cry, unlike Hyunjin who tried to discreetly wipe a tear away. 

“Well,” Felix’s bright smile was replaced with a frown, which only set off alarm signals in Minho’s brain. “Jinyoun-Hyung assigned us a mission.” 

“W-what? Since when did you two do missions?” Minho couldn’t believe his ears. “That’s dangerous. I- I joined that company for you two to stay safe, that’s a violation of the contract I signed-”

“Minho,” Hyunjin placed a placating hand on his shoulder. “It’s fine. We wanted to do this. And a lot has changed since you’ve left.” 

Minho glanced between the two of them and realized how grown up they seemed. Their serious facial expressions were drastically different from the wide grins they usually wore when Minho took care of everything. It was like they were different people. 

“Then what happened when I was gone?” Minho asked and a part of him was scared of the answer. 

“It was rough because we didn’t know what happened exactly but we knew that it didn’t go well since, you know, you didn’t come back.” Felix explained as he fiddled with a ring on his finger.

Hyunjin nodded before he continued. “It was really weird for a while and it was really tense. Kinda like the calm before the storm, ya know?” 

Minho nodded and motioned for them to continue. 

“Hyunjin and I knew that we couldn’t just sit still and do nothing. Jeongin had been going out and doing missions anyway so-”

“Wait, Jeongin has been going out? Is that how he was captured?” Minho wished the boy was here so he could yell at him for being so stupid. Especially now that Minho knew what he was. 

“He was captured? By who?” Felix’s jaw dropped. 

“By the fucking guards!” Minho hissed. “He was looking for me and he only got out because I made a deal with Jisung. He must’ve gotten caught while sneaking around.” 

“Jeongin only told us that his mission had gone awry.” Hyunjin blinked owlishly as he took in the new information. “Wait, if Jeongin knew that you were alive then why didn’t he tell us?” 

“Because I told him not to.” Minho sighed and leaned against the door. “If word got out that I was still alive then Jinyoung would send people after me and you two wouldn’t sit still knowing that I was still out there.” 

Hyunjin and Felix shared a look and Minho knew he was right. Those two were loyal to a fault. 

Felix sighed and ran a hand through his hair. “Just because you’re right doesn’t mean you have to say it.” They laughed and Minho couldn’t help but miss them even more. 

“You two still haven’t told me why you’re here.” 

They both groaned and Minho grinned. He knew they didn’t want to answer the question but he wasn’t going to let them off the hook so easily. 

“We’re here because Jinyoung-Hyung assigned us your mission,” Hyunjin said and immediately Minho’s good mood was ruined. “We’re here to assassinate Han Jisung.” 

As if someone had dumped cold water on him, Minho’s blood ran cold and he froze on the spot. “No.” 

“No what?” Felix asked, worry now clouding his face. “Are you okay, Hyung? Why do you look so pale?” 

The blood drained from Minho’s face and he couldn’t help but think that the world was out to get him. Minho’s heart ached as if a hand had reached into his chest and ripped it out only to stomp on it. Minho’s closest friends who he considers family was out to murder the one person Minho truly felt connected to. Life is a joke. 

“You can’t kill him.” Minho finally said after finding his voice. 

“What? Why not, Hyung?” Hyunjin looked at him as if Minho was crazy. Maybe Minho was crazy. “He’s the reason why you haven’t been home yet! He held you captive!” 

“No, he’s the reason I got out.” Minho looked into their eyes and could only hope they could see his sincerity. “I was bitter towards Jisung at first but eventually I realized that he’s the reason why I’m not locked up in their basement.” 

“Are you saying that he saved you?” Felix nearly scoffed. 

Caught off guard, Minho had to take a step back and think about Felix’s question. It was a question that Felix probably didn’t think twice about, but for Minho, it caused something deep within his brain to just click. 

Thinking back to the times Jisung had been someone Minho could trust, someone he could confide in about his past. Someone who knew the worst parts of him yet never found him disgusting. 

Minho thought about his bright smile and his laughter that always made Minho take a second glance because of how unadulterated it was. He thought of the way Jisung’s emerald eyes always seemed to flick across the room as if he was trying to take in everything at once. Jisung, the person that made Minho realize that his past doesn’t define who he is today. 

“Yeah. He did save me.” 

Hyunjin and Felix shared a look before they seemed to deflate all at once, shoulders slumping and exhaling. 

“Alright. We believe you.” Felix said on the behalf of both. 

“What? Just like that?” Minho couldn’t believe how easy it was. 

“Yeah, after all we’ve been through together, you think we wouldn’t trust you?” Hyunjin laughed and Minho couldn’t help but chuckle too. 

“I guess you’re right.” Minho couldn’t help but be a little embarrassed. He shouldn’t have doubted them.

“Hey, you guys wanna get out of this dingey closet?” Felix said before he sneezed. “It’s really dusty in here.” 

Hyunjin was the first to laugh and Minho followed suit shortly after. His sides were still aching when they left the closet and Felix was telling them to shut up.

Minho really did miss them. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Wow, you get a whole room for yourself?” Hyunjin leaped onto the bed that had been untouched by Minho. Probably because the other was still unmade. 

Felix shortly joined Hyunjin on the bed by throwing himself onto the tall boy. Hyunjin made a noise of protest but didn’t try to push Felix off. 

“I had to lie to some guy for it, but yeah. A room by myself.” Minho locked the door behind him. “Where were you two going to spend the night? You weren’t here since the beginning.” 

“How’d you know we weren’t there?” Hyunjin said after he managed to push Felix to the floor. 

Minho sat on the edge of his bed and gave the elf a look. “Because I was. I would’ve noticed you guys in a heartbeat if you were.” 

Felix sat up from where he was on the floor with a cheeky grin. “You caught us.” 

“We were looking for a free room before you found us, Hyung. Or at least a place to hide.” Hyunjin sat on the edge of his bed, knees knocking against Minho’s. 

“I guess you found one.” Minho said as he gestured to the room. 

Hyunjin and Felix laughed, eyes twinkling as they looked at Minho fondly. “Yeah, we did,” Hyunjin said. 

“Oh, but Hyung,” Felix said suddenly and continued after Minho gave him his attention. “Why are you here?” 

_Oh shit._

“Right, you didn’t tell us yet.” Hyunjin looked Minho in the eyes and Minho couldn’t help but feel like they were doing this on purpose, staring at him with big doe eyes so that they could watch him sweat and squirm. 

“Well,” Minho laughed nervously. How was he supposed to tell them? “How much do you both know about the prophecy?” 

Hyunjin flopped backward onto the bed, bouncing slightly when his body hit the mattress. “It’s all vague, Hyung. What about it?” 

“Okay, then how would you feel if I told you I was a part of it?” 

Confusion tugged on Felix’s brows, making a divot between his eyebrows. “I mean I wouldn’t be surprised really. There’s only so many Descendants of Eunbyeol .” 

“Oh that’s great to hear.” Minho forced a smile more to try to convince himself that what he was saying didn’t seem completely ludicrous than to reassure Hyunjin and Felix. “So, I guess I’m here to murder the King of Korea tomorrow.” 

Silence washed over them and Minho wanted to jump out the window. Felix’s head tilted as if it would help him process what Minho had just said. After a few more seconds, Hyunjin sat up straight and looked Minho in the eyes. 

“What the fuck.” Hyunjin said first, breaking the silence. “Are you serious?”

Minho nodded. “Granny helped me get here.” 

“Granny knows about this?” Felix’s eyes widen drastically and made Minho slightly worried that his eyes might fall out of his sockets. “Shit, then it’s for real.” 

“So you both believe me?” Minho glanced warily at the two boys in front of him. 

“Of course, Hyung.” Hyunjin’s smile was blinding. 

“Duh,” Felix rolled his eyes. 

“Really?” Fuck, Minho needed to get better at trusting people. 

“Obviously.” Hyunjin sang as he rolled his eyes and threw himself around Minho. 

Minho blinked rapidly as if the motion would help him understand what this possibly meant.

“Wait, don’t cuddle without me!” 

Minho didn’t need to see in order to know that Felix was pouting, it was evident in his voice. 

“Felix don’t-” Minho couldn’t finish his sentence before another weight was on top of Minho, causing all air to be squeezed out of his lungs. “Fuck, you’re both heavy.”


	9. Sisu

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sisu: A Finnish noun for an extraordinary determination in the face of adversity.
> 
> The party does not go according to plans.

“Are you ready, Hyung?” 

Minho turned away from the window to see Hyunjin step out of the bathroom and adjust the collar of his black button-up. Ever since the first day, Minho couldn’t help but think back to the damn stupid maze. Something about it was making Minho’s mind ache like something was trying to crawl up his memory, but Minho didn’t know what it was. 

It was driving him absolutely crazy. 

“Yeah, are you?” Minho took a shaky breath to ground himself then straightened the sleeves of his white shirt. When Hyunjin reached Minho, the elf raised a slender arm to fix his hair. 

“Obviously.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes playfully before Felix popped up behind Hyunjin and moved to tie Hyunjin’s long hair back. 

“No, he’s not.” Felix grinned. “He forgot to do his hair.” Felix’s own hair was styled up and away from his face, the exact opposite of Minho’s unstyled hair.

Sighing, Minho shoved his dress shoes on. “You both are trying too hard.” 

“Oh come on, Hyung! Dressing up is half the fun,” Felix said and groaned playfully. “Besides, bartenders gotta look good so we get more tips. Waiters don’t need to.” 

“Are you calling me ugly?” Minho gave them a teasing grin but he had to admit that they did look jaw-dropping. Their light hair contrasted with their all-black ensemble; from the black button-up shirt and black slacks all the way to their black dress shoes. To be honest, Minho was a little jealous that they got to wear all black and he had to wear a white shirt, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

“Obviously,” Hyunjin said as Felix said “no way.” 

Minho gave Hyunjin a glare which only caused the younger to giggle and try to hide behind Felix, but it was a difficult feat to do especially when Hyunjin was a few inches taller. 

“You’re dead to me.” And with those threatening words, Minho left the room, and the younger two trailed behind him like lost ducklings. Except lost ducklings don’t giggle like schoolgirls. 

As they approached the kitchen, the small vial of poison in Minho’s pocket seemed to weigh more with every smooth yet robotic step he took. He repeated the plan in his mind: poison Kangsoo to make him weak then murder him when he’s bedridden. The simplicity of his plan nearly made him smile sardonically as he moved on autopilot, guiding him to where he needed to go without another thought, everything around him slipped away as if it never once existed. 

Until he opened the door to the kitchen and the cool metal doorknob forced Minho’s mind to spiral back to the present. 

“Ah, you’re here, Minho,” Christian said before he finished turning around. He paused for a second and stood still amidst the chaos of the chefs as his eyes darted over Hyunjin and Felix. He seemed to stop and think and Minho immediately knew that everything was going to spiral south if he didn’t step in soon.

“Are you alright?” Minho asked and moved closer to Christian so that he’d be forced to look at Minho instead of the two boys behind him. 

One of Christian’s eyebrows arched. “What do you mean?” 

“You look really tired. Being in charge of all of this must be pretty difficult.” Based on what little Minho knew of the man, Christian was the type of person who wanted everything to be perfect and would stop at nothing to do so. Including himself. “You have bags under your eyes.” 

Christian muttered a curse but it fell on deaf ears when one of the chefs dropped a pan. “Minho, I am entrusting you to make sure those two bartenders get to their stations. I know you’ll do your job well. We have an hour until the first guest arrives so please make sure nothing goes to shit while I fix myself.” And with those final words, Christian brushed past. 

And because Christian held perfection above all else, he idolized punctuality. Minho is nothing if not punctual and Christian liked that about him. 

Minho turned around and nearly bumped into a chef. “Well, you heard the man. Off to your stations.” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes but left with Felix to head to the bar. “Don’t let your new-found power get to your head.” 

The fleeting thought to smack the back of the elf’s head crossed Minho’s mind, but Minho instead decided to slip on the waist apron. He had other things to do so he’d have to push that thought farther down his to-do list. 

With a deep breath to calm his violent tendencies, Minho picked up a tray with the silverware. Minho had first found it honestly baffling when he learned that there were multiple spoons and forks used in one meal, including different glasses for various liquids. There were so many better things to use the resources for than making utensils that will only be used a handful of times. 

“Hey, Minho.” 

Whipping around, Minho silently cursed himself for letting Changmin sneak up on him. “Hey?” 

To be honest, Changmin was a handsome person, but with the underlying effects of a hangover, he did not look good. 

“How are you not hungover right now?” Changmin sent Minho a playful glare as he grabbed some silverware to help Minho set the tables. “You took ten shots of straight vodka.” 

Minho shrugged. “I told you- I have experience.” 

“Not fair,” Changmin mumbled. 

“At least you’re not cleaning dishes like Sunwoo.” Minho placed the last utensil and glanced up in time to see Changmin grimace to himself. 

“The poor boy.” Changmin laughed and for the first time, a bit of color was back in his cheeks. 

“He dropped five plates in front of Christian.” Minho laughed too as he recalled the event. “Christian looked like he was about to have an aneurysm.” 

Changmin nodded solemnly. “Sunwoo is a true dumbass.” 

“You said it, not me,” Minho mumbled as they both headed back to the kitchen to prepare to meet the first guests. 

When the clock struck 5:30, Minho and the other waiters were already lined up, ready to help the guests to their seats. The first guest arrived moments later and the waiter assigned to them led them to their seat promptly. And just like that, like a retreating tide, waiters left to help their assigned guest before returning just how the ocean always returned to the beach without fail. 

But as for Minho, Minho had yet to see his guest. 

Minho’s body was alive with nerves as he stood there and waited. Time seemed to slow every time someone’s shoes could be heard clicking down the hallway and Minho’s heart would beat a tiny bit faster. But when it was revealed to be someone Minho didn’t care about, his heart would sputter pathetically to a slow stop. 

Minho, however, didn’t have to wait long. 6:30 was when the boy with warm brown hair and striking green eyes came walking down the long hallway, spine straight and face neutral. His all-black suit made his skin glow in a way Minho didn’t realize was possible, his waist defined by the belt wrapping around the exterior of his suit and emphasizing his lithe figure. Silver jewelry decorated his ears and fingers in a way that positively radiated importance and confidence. 

Their eyes met, and all of Minho’s troubles suddenly seemed insignificant. 

“Prince Han Jisung of Korea.” 

Minho barely heard the announcer before he found himself walking towards Jisung. Their eyes never fell from each other until Minho was a few feet away. Bowing a complete 90 degrees, Jisung took a sharp inhale. 

“I will be your waiter for tonight. Allow me to take you to your seat.” 

Jisung smelled like spring oranges and fresh mint but also of something much more complicated. Something along the lines of power and ruin and Minho wanted nothing more than to hold Jisung close and breath in the scent until it suffocated him from the inside out. It left Minho dizzy and yearning for more.

“Lead the way.” Jisung sounded indifferent like Minho was no one but a simple worker of Seo Cheolmin’s estate. But when Minho rose, he could see something swimming within the depths of Jisung’s deep pupils as if it was something only Minho was allowed to see. And Minho looked. He looked until he was able to see it with his mind’s eye. 

Minho took Jisung to his table, the one in the middle of the ballroom, and could feel Jisung’s gaze trace his profile then his figure. 

“Like what you see?” Minho mumbled when no one was close enough to hear. 

Jisung giggled quietly, just enough for Minho to pick up on it. “I do.” 

Their shoes clicked against the ground, echoing in Minho’s ears as everyone around them hushed when Jisung passed their table. The other waiters dropped to a bow no matter what they were doing and the guests were quick to follow suit as well. 

The display of sheer respect everyone had for Jisung left Minho breathless. Of course, Minho was aware that Jisung was the Prince of Korea, but Minho had never seen the prince side before today. The way the younger held himself and seemed to be in absolute control of the room was completely different from the Jisung Minho had first met. But this side, the side of power and control, the face of someone who knows exactly what they want and how to get it, made Minho preen with pride. 

“Your seat,” Minho said as he motioned towards the chair. Jisung stood there, staring at the seat before he turned to Minho and gave him a sly smile. 

“Aren’t you supposed to pull my chair out?” Jisung’s eyes twinkled mischievously. 

“My apologies,  _ Princess. _ ” Minho hissed to Jisung’s ears only and the younger tried his best to conceal his laughter. Pulling out the chair, Minho motioned for Jisung to sit, which the younger did with a small sigh. 

“Thank you,” Jisung said before movement in Minho’s peripheral vision caught his attention. 

A person with sharp facial features stopped to stand beside Jisung. He gave Minho a quick glance and an indistinguishable emotion flashed across his face but it was gone as quickly as it appeared. A black tourmaline crystal resided atop of his gold staff and glimmered in the light in a stunningly beautiful yet threatening way. As their eyes connected, Minho was overwhelmed with a sense of familiarity and nostalgia that left Minho’s mind recoiling. 

“Something the matter, Changbin Hyung?” Jisung turned to face the person in question.

Changmin nodded but didn’t break eye contact with Minho as he talked. “Your father is running late, Prince Jisung.” 

“Ah, I see.” Jisung leaned back in his chair and found interest in the garden before him. “What a shame.” 

Minho arched an eyebrow as Jisung looked nothing but indifferent, not the same kind of indifference as before where he had to look collected and poised, but true indifference, one that only those closest to him could truly understand. 

Jisung sighed before he turned to Minho. “Can I get something sweet?” He asked while tapping the wine glass. 

“Something sweet? Like juice?” Minho teased.

“No,” Jisung rolled his eyes playfully. “Wine. If I’m going to sit through this party by myself since my father has no sense of punctuality, I need something to help pass the time.” 

“Are you old enough to drink?” Changbin said with a coy smile, making Jisung scoff and spin around in his chair. 

“Shouldn’t you of all people know that I am both mentally and physically old enough to drink? Besides, it’s wine, not vodka.” Jisung’s lower lip jutted to form a pout and Minho nearly reached to pinch the younger’s cheeks. 

“Alright,” Minho gave in with a quiet sigh. “Anything for you, my Prince.” 

Minho took pride in the way Jisung’s face rapidly reddened and Changbin laughed at the younger. But much to Minho’s dismay, he had to fetch his Prince the wine he wanted instead of enjoying the way Jisung flushed red. 

Minho was well aware of the eyes that followed him as he made his way to the bar, including both Hyunjin and Felix. 

“So, what are you doing here?” Felix asked as a knowing grin stretched across his lips. He leaned over the bar to rest his elbows on the black surface. 

“A bottle of sweet wine,” Minho said and tried to ignore the look Felix was giving him. 

“Right, right.” Felix rolled his eyes fondly before he pushed away and headed to the back to find the right wine just as Hyunjin came over with an empty glass and a white rag. 

“What were you and Jisung talking about?” Hyunjin’s silver eyes twinkled as he began to clean the glass. 

“He wasn’t talking to me,” Minho said as Felix returned with a dark bottle. “And that glass doesn’t need cleaning.” 

Hyunjin rolled his eyes but continued what he was doing. “I know but it looks cool when bartenders in movies do it so I wanna do it too.” 

“Can you believe this guy?” Minho said to Felix but Felix only laughed instead of taking Minho’s side. 

“I think he looks cool.” 

“See?” Hyunjin’s face lit up with enough energy to power the whole estate. “Felix agrees with me.” 

“That’s because you both share the same brain cell,” Minho mumbled to himself as he grabbed the wine and left without giving them any chance to form a rebuttal. 

Minho returned to Jisung and began to fill the wine glass without another word. The moment Minho placed the glass down, Jisung immediately grabbed the glass and nearly drank all of the wine. 

“Leave the bottle,” Jisung said as he returned the near-empty glass to the table. 

Changbin and Minho both shared a look before Minho hesitantly placed the wine bottle onto the table. “As you wish.” 

As Minho retreated, he could hear Changbin’s raspy voice going off about something along the lines of “you shouldn’t drink so much” and “you’re an insufferable prince.” Jisung might’ve retorted but Minho was too far to hear. 

When Minho neared the kitchen, the light dimmed and a person made their way to the stage at the other end of the room. He wasn't tall but his broad physique made up for his lack of height. His face, pointed chin and sharp eyes, reminded Minho of Changbin. 

“Welcome!” He said just as Minho entered the kitchen. “And thank you for coming to my party.” 

Minho could hear his voice booming through the walls as the chefs fluttered around the kitchen and past the waiters. The kitchen was a cacophony of loud noises from food sizzling to chefs shouting orders. Food flew in the air and intermingled with the fragrant smell of various herbs, making Minho’s stomach growl. 

“Oi, get your food. You’re out first since you’re serving Cheolmin and Jisung.” A voice behind Minho caused him to whip around suddenly, not noticing that Christian was right behind him. 

Minho nodded and ignored how Christian dropped the honorifics. “The King isn’t here yet,” Minho said as he grabbed his tray of food. 

Christian tsked before removing the third plate of food from the tray. “Just swerve that for now then. When he gets here, we can give him his food.” 

Nodding once again, Minho left the kitchen just as Cheolmin sat next to Jisung, a broad smile on his wrinkled face. 

Despite the obvious age wrinkling Cheolmin’s face, Minho could see his handsomeness that shined through. He was charismatic with the way he talked animatedly with Jisung and how his eyes crinkled to half-moons when he smiled or laughed. His hair, grey from age, was styled in both a mature yet playful way, curling over his forehead effortlessly. 

“Changbin, my son,” Cheolmin said as Minho approached their table. “It’s my birthday, why are you still on duty?” 

A small smile stretched across Changbin’s face as Minho wordlessly placed the entree in front of Cheolmin. “Father, we can never be too sure regarding the Prince’s safety.” 

“Well, yes,” Cheolmin laughed good-naturedly, “but one day won’t hurt- oh.” 

Minho placed Jisung’s plate in front of the younger before he felt a gaze on him. As Minho straightened, he found Cheolmin looking at him. 

“Do you need something, sir?” 

Cheolmin blinked and seemed to snap out of his stupor before an indistinguishable emotion flashed across his face. “No, it’s just that you look really familiar.” 

Minho tilted his head and tried to wrack his brain as to why Cheolmin out of all people would find him familiar. He could feel both Jisung’s and Changbin’s gaze on his face. “I don’t think-”

“Anyway, Father,” Changbin suddenly said, voice unnaturally high, “How was your birthday thus far?” 

Cheolmin gave Minho one last look before he turned to address his son. “It would’ve been perfect if Kangsoo wasn’t late all the damn time.” Jisung shot Minho a questioning look but Minho slipped away before he could say anything out of the blue. 

“Just my luck,” Minho muttered under his breath as he entered the kitchen to grab more dishes. Minho could never get anything done without someone or something interfering. He already had enough anxiety over the bottle of poison sitting in his pocket almost innocently. He didn’t need more to worry about and he’d be damned if Cheolmin got in the way. 

As time ticked away, a heavy feeling began to grow in Minho’s chest, wrapping around his lungs in a way that made it painful for Minho to breathe. Kangsoo had yet to arrive and now that the main meals were being cleaned up, the king’s absence was making everyone gossip. What king misses his best friend’s birthday party?

Jisung particularly looked uneasy with the way he kept glancing at the seat where his father was supposed to be. The chair only stared back, innocently empty. 

Changbin moved to stand in front of the large open doors to the garden, hair tousled by the gentle breeze. His face was impassive as he surveyed the room, the guards of Cheolmin left him alone and only knew to do so because of the way the royal family’s emblem on his chest glistened in the warm light. 

Minho refilled Cheolmin’s glass of chardonnay, only stopping when the older male motioned to do so and when Minho retreated back to the bar, Cheolmin stood with a flourish, the white wine slushed in the glass. 

“The king isn’t here yet,” Hyunjin whispered when Minho handed the bottle over the bar. 

“I know.” Minho hushed back before he turned to watch the king’s best friend and royal advisor speak. 

“Attention everyone!” His voice booming easily over the room. “Thank you all, once again, for coming here today to celebrate my birthday. Your presence is the best birthday present I could ever receive and-”

Before Seo Cheolmin could utter another word, the doors to the ballroom burst open to reveal armor-cladded people, swords swung from their hips and the royal emblem embossed to their chest. 

They flooded the room and surveyed the space until their eyes landed on Minho. 

“What’s going on?” Cheolmin asked as Jisung slowly rose, confusion decorated their faces in the form of pinched eyebrows and down-turned lips, but Minho could see the panic flash across Jisung’s face. Changbin was by Jisung’s side in a heartbeat, staff in one hand. 

The person in front of the guards stepped forwards, clearly the commander of the small army. “We are here to capture the filthy traitor.” His voice muffled due to his helmet. 

“Under whose orders?” Cheolmin asked and Minho gulped. 

“The King’s.” 

And before anyone else could ask any more questions, the guards began to charge towards Minho. 

_ Fuck! _

“Run, Hyung! Run!” Hyunjin hissed behind Minho, causing Minho to snap into motion. 

Minho took off for the garden since the guards were blocking the other exits, but Minho either underestimated their speed or took off running too late because he found himself tumbling when a heavy body slammed into him. 

Minho rolled and slammed into the bar stools, the wooden seats tumbled around and atop of him. He didn’t have enough time to even breathe before gloved hands picked him up by his collar and shoved him into the bar. The edge of the bar dug into Minho’s back as one of the hands let go only to slam into Minho’s face. 

The hand pulled back once more but before they could swing, Minho found contact with a bottle behind the bar and swung first. The square bottle came in contact with their temple and they stumbled backward in surprise as blood began to trickle. The dark alcohol and bits of glass sprayed around them. 

Without giving them time to catch their bearings, Minho used the bar to hold himself up as he planted both legs against their chest and pushed them off. They fell backward with a sharp clang as their armor hit the tiled floor. 

Then Minho was running again. But he didn’t get very far before he heard the sharp swoosh of a blade cutting through the air. Minho tried to dodge but he stumbled over a barstool and the sword nicked his shoulder. 

“Fuck!” Minho hissed under his breath as he stumbled and tried to ignore the sting. Minho kicked up the barstool and caught it just as the guard swung their sword again. Gritting his teeth, Minho hoisted the stool above his head to block the sword and bit back a groan as the pain in his shoulder flared. 

Minho barely registered the dull thunk the sword made when it embedded into the wooden stool before he twisted the stool and the guard lost their grip on the weapon. Then with as much strength as he could muster, Minho swung the stool only for it to bash into the guard’s head and shatter around them. 

The guard joined its friend on the ground just as Minho tugged the sword out of the barstool. It was too light and too thin for Minho’s preference, but a sword is a sword and Minho was in no position to complain. 

Minho caught movement in the corner of his eye and barely managed to dodge the swing. His reflection stared back at him as the sword passed his face and sliced the air where he stood mere seconds ago. Not wasting another second, Minho twisted and brought his own sword up, and with a powerful thrust, Minho lodged the blade straight through the center of their neck. 

Someone screamed as blood began to spew from the wound and the guard began to choke on their blood, but Minho barely registered the noise when he looked away from the guard. Chest heaving and eyes fluttering, Minho prepared for the next attack as adrenaline flooded his body, but Minho quickly forgot what he was doing when his gaze immediately fell onto Jisung only to see the younger staring owlishly at him with an odd emotion written across his face. 

It was as if someone had reached into his mind to pull his consciousness to the present, snapping him out of his head only to make him notice the carnage around him. Minho realized that this was the first time Jisung had seen him this way. 

Jisung blinked and Minho recognized the emotion sprawled across Jisung’s face so clearly; it was fear. Changbin muttered something into Jisung’s ear, eyebrows pinched together, but Jisung wouldn’t let Changbin drag him away. 

Minho wished Jisung would leave. It would make it easier for Minho. 

Swearing under his breath, Minho quickly scanned around him to find the fastest way out but more guards started to flood through from the garden. He had to get out and he had to do it quickly. Felix rushed from behind the bar only to stop at the end of it, eyes wild and panic-stricken. 

Felix’s mouth moved but Minho was too far to hear. Minho could only hope that he and Hyunjin could get away safely. 

Minho heard rustling to his right and caught the gleam of a sword just as it started to descend. Realizing that he had reacted too late, Minho panicked and caught the blade with his bare hands. He hissed as the sharp edge sliced through his palms but he only gritted his teeth and tugged the sword to his side. The guard stumbled close enough for Minho to knee the underside of their chin then use their own sword to stab right between the eyes. 

Blood gushed out of the wound and Minho barely had enough time to twist his face away. Some splattered against his cheek but his shirt got the worst of it. 

Without a second to spare, another guard was already swinging for Minho and Minho muttered another curse before bolting away. His chest heaved as he pushed his body to run as fast as he possibly could, but it was futile when Minho realized that he had nowhere to go. 

Minho spun in a circle, desperately trying to find somewhere to escape to but he was surrounded. And like a candle flame, Minho’s energy to fight extinguished into a puff of smoke. 

Minho heard footsteps approach from behind but he knew it was useless to fight back. Even if he managed to kill one more, there would be two to cover. There were simply too many. 

With a tired puff of air, Minho slowly raised his hands.

A hand wrapped around the back of Minho’s throat and pushed him to the floor, his face hit the cold tiles roughly before a knee pressed against the small of his back.

“We got you now.” A voice snickered bitterly. 

“Bold words from someone who didn’t even capture me.” Minho laughed then promptly choked when they squeezed his throat tighter. 

“Shut the hell up.” 

“Look what the cat dragged in.” Someone new spoke up and Minho realized it was the commander from before. He crouched in front of Minho with a smug look on his face and Minho wanted to punch it off. 

Mustering as much strength as he could to lift his head, Minho gathered the spit in his mouth and aimed for his boots. His spit hit the mark with a wet splat and Minho couldn’t help but be pretty proud of his aim. 

“Fuck you.” Minho smiled and flipped the guy off, blood dripped down his palms. 

The commander’s smug smile fell from his face as he stared at the spit. A vein in his neck pulsed before he suddenly stood and unsheathed his sword. 

“The king wants you alive,” he seethed, “but I think he’d understand if I kill you myself.” 

Minho rolled his eyes before he planted his face back down onto the floor but he quickly realized his mistake when he suddenly found Jisung’s gaze on him. 

Gone was the strong and independent prince who didn’t care if his father was late, the prince who was so comfortable within his own skin he didn’t care that he was alone at the party. Instead, a young boy with fear so plainly written across his face stared back at Minho, his body shook slightly and his fists clenched by his side. Changbin muttered something to Jisung, a look of urgency on his face, but Jisung remained frozen. 

“Get your filthy hands off of him!” 

Minho’s heart froze in his chest the moment he heard Felix’s deep voice rumble through the room. It sliced through the air and made Minho's skin burst with goosebumps. With shaking pupils, Minho glanced to see Felix standing a few feet away with a fierce look of determination, a look that had Minho confused if it was impressive or plain stupid. 

“Felix, don’t.” Minho’s voice shook for the first time. 

The commander glanced from Minho to Felix as a cruel smile stretched across his face. “You know him?” He asked sarcastically. “Wouldn’t it be a shame if I kill you in front of him?” 

Before Minho could think of something snarky to say, a sharp pain flared in his thigh as the commander embedded his sword into Minho’s flesh. Minho couldn’t help the cry that left his chapped lips as the sword was pulled out. 

Blinking the stars from his eyes, Minho gasped for air but was quickly met with another stab of pain but this time in the opposite thigh. Minho thrashed as much as he could with the hand behind his neck and the knee on his back holding him down, but Minho refused to utter another sound when the blade began to slowly twist in his leg. 

It had been ages since Minho had felt pain like this and Minho had nearly forgotten what it felt like all together. Minho used to be numb to feeling, but after being away from the harsh realities of the world with Jisung, traveling from place to place in nearly a carefree manner, Minho couldn’t help but be bitter that he had forgotten. If he didn’t learn what it felt like to be free with Jisung, Minho couldn’t be in this much pain. 

“I said get your hands off of him.” 

Minho felt a shiver wrack his entire body at the sheer coldness in Felix’s voice. Even the sword in his leg paused for a second. Felix’s face was utterly furious yet broken as if seeing Minho in pain was hurting him too. His pupils, usually a vibrant blue, were now nearly white and seemed to blend in with the sclera. Felix’s fists were clenched by his sides as he gritted his teeth and Minho couldn’t help the fear that tugged at his stomach. 

“Or what?” The guy holding Minho down laughed. “You’ll cry?” 

A few of the other guards laughed before they twisted the blade in Minho’s leg even more. This time, Minho could only squeeze his eyes closed and clench his teeth shut in a desperate attempt to hide his scream. 

“No, I’ll  _ kill you all. _ ” Minho’s eyes snapped open when Felix’s voice seemed to echo in the room around them as if he was everywhere all at once and not in front of them. 

Goosebumps streamed along Minho’s arms and he could barely believe his eyes when wings radiating golden light burst behind Felix, beautiful yet frightening. They extended and Minho suddenly forgot how to breathe when each tip nearly brushed the opposing walls of the ballroom, every gentle flutter of Felix's wings sent a soft breeze. Felix's wings seemed handcrafted by Hephaestus himself and dripped power due to how they crackled with light. They seemed unbreakable by any blade but delicate enough to be disturbed by a single whisper. 

“What the fuck?” 

Felix blinked and suddenly his eyes were glowing, bright and brilliant like his wings. He uncurled his hands and raised them both in front of him. His fingertips glowed gold before the light in the room began to bend in perplexing and unnatural ways. The air around them was tense and it was deathly quiet as everyone watched how the light obeyed whenever Felix moved his hands and followed every movement as if the light was an extension of his body. Minho blinked once and suddenly the light sharped into arrows. Blinking once more, Minho could only process how the arrows sliced through the air and sent blades of wind against his body as they passed. 

With barely enough time to flinch, Minho watched as guards collapsed around him. 

The room basked in darkness except for the light the angel emitted. Felix was the stars themselves, ethereal and nearly otherwordly in the way he seemed calm and collected, his hair and clothes danced with a nonexistent wind. He was beautiful in a way that only unworldly creatures like himself can be; his skin, like flecks of gold, glimmered in his own light as his wings flared, mimicking the spectacle that was a downpour of blades forged by light.

The last bits of air escaped the lungs of the unfortunate guards as the onslaught of blades pierced their bodies like a hot knife to butter, but Minho was hardly able to register what he was witnessing. 

When did Felix have this power? Just how much did Minho miss? 

_ “You will never get away with this, _ ” Felix’s voice echoed.  _ “Never again will you-” _

A bang ricocheted through the room just as the smell of sulfur cut through the air. Minho felt a piece of him shatter. 

Time slowed and Minho felt useless as he watched helplessly when the bullet lodged in Felix’s chest, right where his heart was. 

Everything was silent, too silent. Minho began to tremble involuntarily and soon, time sped up to its original pace.

"No," Minho whispered to no one but the deities above. 

Felix coughed and blood, red and viscous, spilled from his lips. The light radiating from his body flickered like a lightning storm and it was nearly blinding to how erratic it was becoming. The shaky inhale that slipped past Felix's pale lips echoed in Minho's mind.

Turning around as quickly as he could, the commander of the guards laid on his side, a pain-filled smirk tugged at his lips as his smoking gun slid from his grip. 

“Don’t tell me what to do,” He said as blood dripped from the corner of his mouth. He took a shaky breath to prepare to speak again but he didn’t get to utter his foul words before a tree burst through the tiles and pierced his torso. The scent of rain and damp earth pierced through the room as the tree grew until it reached the ceiling and his body dangled from the branches like a crude Christmas ornament. 

From behind, Hyunjin stood with shaking legs, hand outstretched as he breathed heavily. His eyes had a wild look as if he couldn’t believe what he had just done. Their eyes met and Minho was only left with a reeling mind when he heard someone hit the floor.

Minho turned just as Felix curled into a fetus position and a bone-chilling scream ripped through the air. 

The glass from the windows shattered and rained around them like deadly rain but Minho barely processed the sharp fragments. Minho gritted his teeth and tried his best to cover his ears but it wasn’t enough to block the shrill shriek. It rippled through his body as if something deep within was trying to claw its way out and Minho's heart became heavy as if Felix’s pain was his own. An angry hand reached into Minho’s chest and squeezed the organ until Minho was gasping for breath. Something wet fell from his eyes and Minho realized belatedly that he was crying. 

“Felix,” Minho called out and tried to reach for the boy but he couldn’t move. “Felix, I’m here. Everything will be okay.” 

Felix lifted his head and as their eyes met, his helpless cries stopped but Minho immediately had to choke back another sob as another wave of sadness slammed into his chest. Felix looked so helpless, so afraid, and Minho was so angry that he could do nothing about it. His legs refused to cooperate and Minho could only drag his body slowly across the floor. 

Minho didn’t get very far before more guards appeared and began to flood the room. They split into two groups, one surrounded Felix and the other came straight toward him. Minho didn’t care if they captured him, but he can’t let them take Felix. 

“No!” Minho’s voice broke as he could only watch. Minho cursed his pathetic state. “No, don’t you dare. Not my Felix.” His voice trickled to a whisper.

One of the guards picked up Felix by the arm and tugged the boy up, blood dripped from his body and stained the white floor. Minho wanted to scream. He wanted to curse them and rip out their intestines himself, but he couldn’t. 

“Leave him alone,” Minho nearly growled and tried to push himself up only to fall back to his forearms. 

Finally acknowledging the guards before him, Minho noticed that their armor was a lot thicker and more protective than the original guards and they carried guns with their swords. Even if Minho wasn’t injured, he wasn’t sure if he’d be able to take a few down. 

The last bit of energy left Minho’s body as he finally gave up. A bitter taste lingered in his mouth but he really couldn’t do anything. 

“You big bad boys here just for me?” Minho rested his head on the tiles, a grimace on his face. They didn’t say anything back. 

They finally reached Minho and one wrapped a hand around Minho’s upper arm but before they could pick him up, a loud crack startled the guards and Minho. Giant root-like plants sprouted from the ground and wrapped around the guards only to suspend them several feet in the air. It saved Minho, but it created a border between Minho and Felix. 

“Hyung, we need to go,” Hyunjin said, startling Minho since he seemingly appeared out of nowhere. 

Hyunjin slipped his hands under Minho’s armpits and adjusted Minho until he leaned against Hyunjin’s side. “What about Felix? We can’t leave him.” Minho’s voice cracked.

They glanced to where Felix was only to see the younger boy being carried out of the room, surrounded by guards on all sides. 

“We can’t.” Hyunjin’s voice broke which mirrored how Minho felt inside. 

“What do you mean we can’t?” Minho hissed as Hyunjin tried to get them to move but Minho wasn’t having it. “We’re not going to even try?” 

“Hyung, when I say we can’t,  _ we can’t. _ ” Tears flooded Hyunjin’s silver eyes and threatened to spill over. Minho realized, even if belated, that Hyunjin was hurting just as much as he was. “If I try to save him, I’m either going to lose you too or we both get taken.” 

“And? At least we’ll be all together!” 

Hyunjin met Minho’s eyes, silently pleading for Minho to give it up but Minho didn’t want to. He didn’t want to accept that this might be the last time he saw Felix. Minho couldn’t accept that Felix had given up his own life just for Minho. 

But Minho knew that Hyunjin was right. 

“We can save him later, I promise. But we need to prepare for that.” 

Swallowing his protest, Minho nodded and Hyunjin released a grateful sigh. 

“How well can you move?” Hyunjin asked while surging forward but it only resulted in Minho buckling under his own weight. “Oh.” 

Minho winced and tried not to cry out in pain. He could feel the blood drip down his legs. “Yeah, not good.” 

“I’m going to have to carry you, is that alright?” Hyunjin asked but was already sweeping Minho off his feet. 

Minho nodded and focused on trying not to groan as his muscles stretched around his wounds. “Don’t worry about me. We need to go.” 

It was Hyunjin this time who nodded before he took off. The elf was careful not to jostle Minho as best as he could but it was unavoidable. 

“Hey, don’t let them escape!” 

Hyunjin swore under his breath as he made his way through the door leading to the garden. With a hand motion, or as best as he could while holding Minho, Hyunjin made a gesture that caused more of the tree-like roots to burst through the ground and block the doors. 

“That’ll give us time,” Hyunjin huffed as a bead of sweat rolled down his temple. 

Hyunjin took off again and made his way through the garden, running past and through various flowers. 

“There,” Minho pointed to a break in the hedges. “That’s the entrance to the maze, they can’t follow us if they don’t know where we went.” 

Hyunjin didn’t think twice before he ran blindly into the maze. “I have no idea where I’m going.” 

Minho’s eyes darted all around them as he tried to find something to distinguish their location but he came up empty-handed when everything was the same green hedge. But luckily, Hyunjin turned a corner and they were face to face with the gazebo in the center of the maze. 

It was tall and white and lights hung from the roof. Various flowers sat in planters that hung off the rails and ivy climbed the pillars. Minho would’ve found it pretty if they weren’t running away from guards who wanted them captured. 

“Where now?” Hyunjin breathed heavily, guilt spiked in Minho’s stomach. 

“Go straight.” Minho didn’t know why but a feeling in his gut made him believe that it was the right way. 

Nodding, Hyunjin took off and Minho was forced to realize how much Hyunjin trusted his word. Hyunjin didn’t ask why Minho thought it was the way to go, he didn't question how Minho knew. Hyunjin trusted Minho to lead them out safely and that thought alone was enough to make Minho nauseous. 

“Go left.” 

“Right.”

“Straight.” 

“Go right again.”

Minho muttered directions as best as his gut was telling him. Minho was never one to trust gut feelings, always relied on thinking things through and reasoning, but right now, Minho had no other choice. 

Then without another word, they were out. 

“Nice job, Hyung.” Hyunjin managed to say between breaths. 

“Don’t rejoice just yet,” Minho muttered when they came before a tall fence. “We need to get over that first.”

“That’s nothing,” Hyunjin said and didn’t break his strides even when the earth cracked below them and thick tree roots climbed out of the dirt. The tree wrapped around them then grew up and over the fence, only letting go once Hyunjin’s feet touched the earth. Then Hyunjin was running once again and didn’t stop even when they were deep within the forest. 

“Hyunjin, you can stop now.” Minho could feel Hyunjin shake from exertion but the younger didn’t pause. 

Hyunjin shook his head, blonde hair bouncing. “No, not until we’re somewhere safe.” 

“You can’t keep running until we’re back home.” Minho sighed. “You need to rest. Besides, I need to wrap up my wounds before I bleed out.” 

Minho almost laughed at how fast Hyunjin stopped when he mentioned his wounds. 

“Shit, I forgot about that.” Hyunjin quickly placed Minho down onto the mossy floor as if he would crumble. “Is this okay?” 

Minho nodded and twisted to try to see his wounds. “Could be worse,” Minho said with a shrug.

“Could be worse?” Hyunjin’s voice was nearly shrill. “What could be worse than this? And how are you not dead from blood loss?”

Minho rolled his eyes. “Stop being so dramatic.” 

“I’m sure as hell not being dramatic right now.” Hyunjin looked a little pale and he wouldn’t look away from Minho’s wounds. 

Knowing how stubborn Hyunjin can be, Minho sighed and dropped the conversation. “Get two sticks roughly the width of a pencil.” 

Wordlessly, Hyunjin fetched two sticks and returned with them in hand. Minho quickly inspected the sticks in question before tearing two strips from the bottom of his shirt. Wrapping the fabric a few inches about the wound, Minho used the stick to tighten the fabric. 

“What are you doing?” Hyunjin asked from where he squatted next to Minho. 

“Stopping the blood flow.” 

Hyunjin didn’t ask another question while Minho finished his other leg. 

“I hope I did it right.” Minho motioned Hyunjin to help him up but the younger boy only rose uncertainty. 

“Are you sure you can walk?” Hyunjin asked while eyeing the tourniquets. 

Minho held back an eye roll. “Sure I can.” 

“Okay fine,” Hyunjin huffed and placed his hands on his hip. “ _ Should _ you walk?” 

Minho went quiet for a second as he mulled over the question before coming to the bitter conclusion that Hyunjin was right. “No,” Minho tailed off, gritting his teeth. “But I can try.” 

“No, you’re not going to try,” Hyunjin said as if Minho was a child. He turned around and squatted once again. “I’ll give you a piggyback ride.”

Minho watched how Hyunjin’s muscles rippled under his thin shirt, revealing the strength he had. “Fine,” Minho said and made it as clear as he could that he wasn’t happy through the tone of his voice. 

Hyunjin, who had known Minho for far too long, must’ve known that Minho was just bullshitting because the elf only picked Minho up after Minho wrapped his arms around Hyunjin's neck, careful not to hurt the older boy. “Whatever, Hyung. I’m doing all the heavy lifting here, you just have to sit tight and look pretty.” 

“I’m always pretty.” Minho huffed and Hyunjin laughed. 

“I can hear your pout.”

“I’m not pouting.” 

“Right.” Hyunjin’s smile was audible through his voice 

Minho exhaled through his nose as he let his head fall to his shoulder, his body jostled as Hyunjin walked. Minho's energy seemed to bleed out from his body and left him like putty, molding to the contours of Hyunjin’s body. 

“How long do you think it’ll take to get back?” Hyunjin asked as Minho watched how shadows danced along his arms, each shape different from the one before it. 

“I don’t know,” Minho said truthfully. “A few hours?” 

Hyunjin made a thinking noise, “do you think you’ll be okay?” 

Minho turned to look at Hyunjin’s profile, face neutral except for the slight crease between his brow. “Yeah, I’ll be fine.” 

The silence that grew around them didn’t last very long until Hyunjin began to hum a soft melody, one that was vaguely familiar. Minho appreciated the feeling of the vibration through his body more than the sweet notes that tickled his ears as Hyunjin walked, gentle and soothing. The younger didn’t seem to mind when Minho began to tap against his collarbone, attempting to follow the song even if he didn’t know where exactly it came from. 

“Oh, Hyung!” Hyunjin’s light voice startled Minho when the younger suddenly stopped singing. “I’m so stupid, I have a better idea than whatever you did to your legs.” 

“What is it?” Minho asked and skepticism colored his words but he let Hyunjin manhandle him to the ground. 

“There’s this trick I read in this really old book back at the company,” Hyunjin began as he untied the tourniquets. “Although I’ve never had the opportunity to try it out, I doubt it could make anything worse than this.” Hyunjin gestured to the tourniquet and Minho would’ve found it offensive if he wasn’t sure if he did it right himself. 

“Knock yourself out,” Minho said. 

Hyunjin gave Minho a reassuring smile, the mole under his eye crinkling from the motion, but his hands shook as they hovered over Minho’s legs. The elf took a deep breath in before Hyunjin’s palms began to glow a warm green tone, tiny sparkles fluttered in the wind. 

Minho sucked a sharp breath when a prickling sensation rippled across his legs, causing him to twitch in an attempt to get away. 

“Sorry,” Hyunjin mumbled, sweat dotted his hairline. “Just hang in there.” 

The shaky breath Minho tried to take was quickly forgotten about when root-like structures began to grow and stretch through his wound. The roots weaved across his body like a replacement for sinew, holding his body together until the flesh could heal. 

When Hyunjin finished, he sat back on his haunches with a tired huff and wiped the sweat from his brow. Only the raw edges of Minho's skin were exposed, the rest of the wound was wrapped away with the root. 

“Pretty cool, huh?” Hyunjin chuckled. 

“Yeah,” Minho turned his legs to get a better look and was surprised to only feel sore. “Who knew outdated information from old dusty books could be so useful?” Minho said as Hyunjin tugged him up. 

“Not me,” Hyunjin began to walk but didn’t let go of Minho’s hand and instead swung it between them as he continued humming his song. 

“It’s still gonna take forever to get back,” Minho said and watched Hyunjini’s expression carefully. “Even if you’re not carrying me the whole way.”

Hyunjin shrugged. “Nothing we can do about it, I suppose.” His eyes twinkled with mirth and Minho wished he was as carefree as him. “If only you could poof into a tiger and just carry me back, huh?” 

Laughing to himself, Hyunjin didn’t notice how Minho stopped in his tracks until their connected hands tugged him back to Minho’s side. 

“I could,” Minho said as he internally cursed himself. Why didn’t he think of that sooner? 

“Can you?” Hyunjin’s head tilted to the side. “But I thought you couldn’t?”

Minho shook his head before he dropped Hyunjin’s hand. “A lot has happened since I was gone.” 

Hyunjin couldn’t say anything else before Minho closed his eyes and took a deep breath in. Every time Minho changed forms, it was noticeably easier than the time before. It felt almost natural with the way his body seemed to decompress and his bone snapped into a different skeletal structure. Hyunjin’s yelp nearly went unnoticed by Minho, the older too busy relishing in the way the wind carded through his fur and how soft the moss felt under his paws. 

“Damn,” Minho heard Hyunjin mutter under his breath then felt a hand run down his head before scratching the base of his skull. Involuntarily, Minho’s ear twitched when Hyunjin found a particularly satisfying spot. “How cute,” Hyunjin cooed. 

Snapping out of the momentary bliss, Minho turned to face the younger and pretended to bite his hand, a low growl deep within his throat. Hyunjin yelped and retreated a few stumbling steps before Minho let out a huff of air as a substitute for a laugh. 

“Not cool,” Hyunjin huffed, cheeks coloring. 

If Minho could, Minho would’ve rolled his eyes. Instead, he lowered to all fours and waited until Hyunjin got the cue and climbed onto his back. 

“You sure this is a good idea?” Hyunjin asked as he gave Minho a few gentle pats. Minho huffed in a way he hoped conveyed ‘of course’ before he and launched into a run. 

A long string of explicits tumbled out from Hyunjin’s lips as the younger desperately clung on for dear life but Minho couldn’t find himself to care. 

He felt as if this was what he was meant to do all along like he was made for this. The tree roots weren’t a problem as Minho shiftly maneuvered over or around it without a second thought, body swift and light as he made his way through the thick foliage. It didn’t matter that the canopy above blocked some of the moonlight because Minho could see perfectly well. 

The newfound freedom made Minho wonder why he repressed this side of himself for so long. 


	10. Zemblanity

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Zemblanity: a coined term designed to be the antonym of 'serendipity.' It is the inevitable discovery of what we would rather not know. 
> 
> Minho opens up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ooops this is later than usual. Sorry hehe  
> anyway, more backstory wooo!

“When I said to bring back Hyunjin and Felix I meant both at the same time,” Granny placed a pair of weathered hands to her hips as Minho approached the older lady. 

Hyunjin slid off Minho’s back and practically flung himself into Granny and barely gave her enough time to hold her arms out. Hyunjin towered over her but it didn’t seem to bother the elf when he rested his head on top of hers. 

“I missed you,” Hyunjin whispered as he swayed both of them. 

Granny chuckled and rubbed her palms along Hyunjin’s spine. “I missed you too, Hyunjinnie.” 

Minho only huffed and chose to lie on the ground. The loose dirt tickled his nose but the exhaustion from the long run was starting to creep up on him and seep into his bones to leave him with heavy eyelids. 

“I didn’t notice you there, Minho,” Granny mused, eyes mirrored by wrinkles. 

Minho realized belatedly that he couldn’t retort back when only a small grumble left his lips instead of actual words. Both Hyunjin and Granny snickered at him.

“Why don’t you change back?” Hyunjin asked as he reached to scratch at that _one_ place that always made Minho’s tail flick in satisfaction. 

Slipping his eyes shut was rather an easy task to do when Minho tried to concentrate, but the same exhaustion that pulled his eyelids down was also the same barrier that left Minho with not enough energy to change back. 

After a few minutes of fruitless efforts, Minho cracked his eyes open and gave them both a tired puff of air. 

“Are you too tired?” Granny asked and Minho nodded.

“Well, I don’t blame him,” Hyunjin didn’t stop the scratching and Minho couldn’t find it within himself to make the younger stop. It felt too good. “He’s been through a lot today. He fought a couple of guards, got a sword stabbed through both of his legs, he ran here-”

“He’s injured?” Granny suddenly asked, startling Hyunjin from his tangent and momentarily stopping the scratching.

“Well, yeah, but I took care of it,” Hyunjin said but soon yelped when Granny smacked him. 

“Why didn’t you say so sooner?” Granny tsked before she grabbed a handful of fur and pulled. “Inside, both of you.”

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


After Hyunjin undid his magic and Granny stitched Minho’s wounds, Minho found himself lying half in the kitchen and half in the hallway, the only available space to fit Minho. 

Minho found himself twitching to every noise he heard even if it was just Hyunjin’s soft snores from the couch or the gentle rustling of leaves just outside of the house. It seemed as if everyone but Minho was asleep even if his exhaustion weighed heavily on his bones. 

It seemed like hours had past but Minho knew it was only minutes until Minho had decided to give up. He stood carefully, as to not wake anyone, and carefully weaved his way around the furniture to reach the front door. 

Minho reached for the doorknob only for his large paw to reach the brass handle. Irritation shot through his body as Minho tried to turn the handle only to be met with a closed door. A quiet grumble resonated through Minho’s chest as he bit down on the knob and jerked his head to the side, and much to his satisfaction, the door finally swung open. 

Greeted to clean air and a gentle breeze as he stepped out, the wind carded through his fur and swept away the tension between his shoulders. Minho breathed in the chilly air and relished in the way it seeped into his bones and grounded him to reality. 

He moved but didn’t quite register the motion in his brain until he found himself amidst the cabbages and ginger, a rich herbal scent permeated through the earth as Minho laid down and involuntarily sighed. 

But just as quickly as the peacefulness came, it left. 

Something heavy gripped his heart and gave the organ a tantalizing squeeze. It left Minho gasping for air as tears threatened to spill. All the regret he had pushed away, all the pain from not being able to do more, whirled through his mind and tugged the memories to the forefront of his mind. Minho could only lie there as he reexamined everything he did and scolded himself when he thought of a better solution. 

Minho cursed himself for not protecting Felix, for letting those bastards touch him, for watching with pathetic helplessness. Minho was supposed to protect him, he swore that to himself, yet he couldn’t do it when it mattered the most. 

And Minho hated the way Jisung had looked at him. It was to no one’s surprise that the Prince would be scared. Who wouldn’t be when Minho didn’t hesitate to kill those guards without another thought and treated the situation as if it was a normal occurrence? 

The fear was so obvious on the younger’s face and Minho wanted to laugh at himself for believing that Jisung would be different. Once people found out what Minho had done, from the people who wanted to hire him to the others at the company, they all had the same reservation towards him. The same look of disgust.

But Minho couldn’t even be angry at them because they were right; he is a monster. 

“Hyung?” A tentative voice suddenly spoke up. It was loud compared to the deathly silent night. 

Before Minho could even address the younger, Hyunjin had already slipped under his paw and hid his face between the junction of Minho’s head and shoulder. 

“I’m sorry,” the younger said before he burst into tears and startled Minho when he began to shake. The pain was audible in Hyunjin's fragile voice and it dug deep within Minho's soul like a cold, sharp knife. 

Minho couldn’t say anything and could only pull Hyunjin closer, careful not to crush him. He let Hyunjin cry and tried to convey comfort through his actions. 

“I should’ve done more.” Hyunjin began after he took a shaky breath. Minho wanted to tell the younger otherwise but Hyunjin was already speaking again. “I just froze, Hyung, and I wish I didn’t. I wish I was as brave as you and Felix and fought back. I hate how I just stood there and watched.” 

Minho wanted to scream that no, Hyunjin wasn't to blame and he did all that he could but Minho realized that his own words made him a hypocrite. They both were angry at themselves for the same reason, yet Minho couldn't help but think that Hyunjin was wrong; he was not to blame.

Something pitiful twisted in Minho’s chest. It demanded his attention and made his breathing uneven. Minho fought back his quivers when Hyunjin released another heart-wrenching sob.

Minho wasn’t the only person who lost a best friend today.

Hyunjin pulled himself closer to Minho as if he was trying to disappear from the harsh reality of the world. Even when the younger eventually slipped unconscious, the tears squeezed past his closed eyelids and rolled off Hyunjin's face as he hiccupped. Minho didn’t do anything but provide warmth because sometimes the best way to comfort someone is to let them fall apart and put them back together again. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The first thing Minho realized when he opened his eyes was that the world was awfully bright and much too cheery for the melancholy weight on his heart. The vibrant blue sky and white fluffy clouds framed by spindly tree branches mocked Minho. 

Minho took a lungful of the clean air before he realized the reason why everything was so bright. It was because he no longer viewed the world through the eyes of an apex predator. 

Raising his hand as if he was reaching for the clouds, Minho was met with a paw and sharp claws, fur fluffy and honey brown. Minho felt his limbs tingle as he imagined a hand instead of a paw and his fur began to glow softly. It only took a few seconds before his fur seemed to be made only of light. Then, as if the light was tangible, it shattered into millions of shards. The wind picked up and with the fluttering leaves, all traces of what Minho really was, was gone. 

Minho let his hand fall and card into Hyunjin’s long blonde hair but the motion must have awoken the younger when he suddenly stirred and groaned.

“Is it morning already?” Hyunjin asked, voice thick with sleep. 

“Yeah,” Minho said, his own voice raspy. “Sorry for waking you.” 

Hyunjin shook his head and Minho opted to ignore how the younger wiped his drool on his shirt. 

“It’s okay. Are you back to your human self?” Hyunjin rolled out of Minho’s embrace to lie flat on his back, trampling a few of the ginger growing above ground. 

Minho nodded then voiced that he was indeed human when Minho realized the younger had yet to open his eyes. 

“Ah!” Hyunjin said suddenly and made Minho jump when Hyunjin sprung to a sitting position. “How are you feeling, Hyung? Are you alright?” 

Minho was met with wide and imploring eyes as Hyunjin watched Minho. The skin around Hyunjin’s striking sliver eyes was red and puffy, an obvious indicator that he had been crying. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” 

Hyunjin shook his head before he turned around and motioned for Minho to climb onto his back. “Let’s go back in so we can address your wounds.” 

“I think I can walk on my own.” Minho rolled his eyes but Hyunjin wasn’t having any of it.

“Stop being stubborn and just let me help you.” 

Minho sighed but ultimately let Hyunjin have his way. 

Hyunjin grunted when he stood but didn’t have any problems carrying Minho. 

“You know,” Minho began and pulled a stray leaf out of Hyunjin’s hair, “I feel the same way about Felix.” 

Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and whirled around to look at Minho but must’ve forgotten that he was carrying the older boy when Minho found himself twirling with him. 

“Oh, I forgot I was carrying you,” Hyunjin mumbled more to himself than to Minho. He twisted his head to get a clear view of Minho, his eyebrows pinched together. “What do you mean?” 

Something wavered in Hyunjin’s voice and gave away that he was much more nervous than he seemed. 

“I should’ve done more to save him,” Minho said as a wave of cold washed over him when he was faced with reality. All the regret from last night tumbled onto Minho’s shoulders, heavy and overbearing as it clung to his skin. 

“Don’t say it like that,” Hyunjin laughed without mirth. “You make it seem like he’s dead.” 

Minho shrugged. “We don’t know for sure.” 

“Yes, we do,” Hyunjin said with gritted teeth and startled Minho with how much conviction the younger had. “We can’t assume that he isn’t alive. He is. I know it.” 

Minho exhaled through his nose and let Hyunjin have it his way. Even if he didn’t quite believe the younger, it was nice to pretend for a little bit. “Fine, if you insist.” Hyunjin scoffed but continued walking. “But I do mean that I should’ve done more.” 

Hyunjin shrugged, which made Minho’s arms move from where they laid on top of his shoulder. “You tried your best, Hyung, I know you did. Everyone always looks back and thinks they could’ve done more but in reality, you couldn’t have. Felix doesn’t blame you.” 

“You don’t know that,” Minho said as he laughed humorlessly.

“Sure, I do.” 

“Really?” Minho twisted to see Hyunjin’s face and could make out the small smile on his full lips. “How so?”

“I just do,” Hyunjin huffed as he tried to wipe the smile on his face but it was futile. “Because I know Felix, and you do too.” Hyunjin turned his head to meet Minho’s gaze, his expression now serious and Minho could feel his smile slipping. 

Hyunjin was right. Of course, he was. 

"It's kind of funny how you were crying in my arms last night-"

"Shut up!" The tops of Hyunjin's ears turned red when he interrupted Minho, and Minho's heart felt the tiniest bit lighter. 

They approached the front door without an accident and Minho reached to open it since Hyunjin’s hands were wrapped around Minho to make sure he didn’t fall. The door swung open and they were greeted by two pairs of eyes. 

“Ah, there they are,” Granny said with squinted eyes. 

“Where’d you two go? I woke up and you both were gone.” Joshua had a wild look on his face and his hair was disheveled. 

“We went to sleep outside,” Hyunjin said with a sheepish laugh. “The stars looked lonely.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


A week had passed since the failed attempt to assassinate King Kangsoo and Minho was growing restless. 

His legs had healed well and the stitches were removed a day ago. All that was left were large scars to remind Minho of his failures. 

Joshua would disappear for days to gather information on Felix’s possible whereabouts as Minho, Hyunjin, Granny, and Emily stayed back and twiddle their thumbs. There wasn’t much for them to do especially for Minho since all authorities would be on his ass for what he tried to do and Hyunjin wasn’t in the clear for helping Minho escape. 

“When do you think Joshua-Hyung would be back?” Minho grumbled as he glared at his mahjong tiles and tried to remember the goal of the game again. 

“Hopefully soon,” Hyunjin mumbled but clearly wasn’t paying much attention to Minho. Hyunjin’s eyebrows pinched together to form a slight crease in the middle of his forehead as he furiously glanced across his tiles. 

Minho sighed and slouched against his chair. This was not the first time they played mahjong and Minho still had yet to understand the rules, let alone win. 

Hyunjin finally seemed to decide what he wanted to do on his turn and placed a tile in the middle before he grabbed a different tile to replace it. Granny smiled mischievously and the blood drained from Minho’s face. That look only meant one thing. 

“I win,” Granny said as she took Hyunjin’s discarded piece to complete her last suit. They all collectively groaned when Granny had won for the fifth time in a row. 

“Petition to make Granny play blindfolded so we have at least a slight chance to win,” Hyunjin said with a pout. 

Minho and Emily nodded but before Granny could retort, a knock on the door distracted all of them. 

“Is dad home?” Emily’s eyes lit up as she jumped from her seat to open the door. The door swung open before any of them could tell her to be careful and Minho’s jaw nearly dropped. 

It was not Joshua at the door.

“Hey, Emily! Long time no see.” 

Minho stood abruptly from his chair, which sent it flying back, but Minho barely registered the loud clatter as it hit the floor. “Jisung, what are you doing here?” 

A soft look resided on Jisung’s face as he smiled at Emily, but when his emerald eyes flicked up to meet Minho’s, something flashed across his face too quickly for Minho to distinguish. Jisung’s brown hair seemed almost honey as the sun shined behind him and gave him a nearly ethereal glow. 

There in all of his glory stood Jisung, but he was not alone. 

On one side stood Changbin, staff by his side, and black hair parted to reveal his forehead, his undercut peaked through the longer strands. The eyebrow slit in the shape of an X warped when Changbin caught Minho's gaze and he arched an eyebrow in greeting. On Jisung’s other side stood Chan, a goofy half-smile splayed across his lips and blonde hair piled messily on top of his head. He waved as Minho appraised him. 

“Hi, again.” Chan’s half-smile stretched to a full one. 

“Hi,” Minho mumbled back. “Why are you both here?” 

“Well, since someone tried to murder my father recently,” Jisung began before Chan could, “I’m supposed to have protection, hence Changbinnie-Hyung. As for Channie-Hyung, he insisted on coming.” Jisung shot the older a look, which Chan opted to ignore. 

“Yeah, I had a very strong hunch. I wouldn’t close my apothecary shop and travel to a whole different country for nothing.” Chan laughed but no one joined him. 

Changbin sighed but nodded. “Onto more urgent matters, we’re here because we know where your friend is.” 

Hyunjin suddenly shot up from his seat, spine rigidly straight as he stood beside Minho. “Felix is alive? Is he okay?” 

“To be honest, I'm not sure but I think he's okay,” Jisung said as he became more serious. “He’s alive, that’s all I know besides where he is.” 

Minho could feel Hyunjin shake beside him and he couldn’t blame him. Minho's own hands were curled into fists, his blunt fingernails dug into his skin to ground him to reality. 

“Well, hurry and come in,” Granny spoke up for the first time since Jisung, Changbin, and Chan had arrived. “We have a lot to talk about.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“What took you so long to come back?” Emily said as she sat next to Jisung on the couch. 

They all squeezed into the very minuscule living room since it was the only place that could possibly fit all of them. Jisung sat on the love seat sofa, Emily on one side and Changbin on the other. Chan sat on the armrest of the sofa next to Changbin while Hyunjin sat on a small plastic seat that was meant for children half his age. Granny was clearly the only one who sat comfortably as she rested on an armchair all for herself. As for Minho, he stood off to the side and leaned against the wall with a slight scowl on his lips. 

Jisung laughed and ruffled her hair, much to her annoyance. “It was hard to gather information since the accident didn’t occur at my castle, but I got the information eventually. I would’ve come here sooner but the guards were all concerned about my safety.” 

Changbin huffed from where he was squeezed between Jisung and the sofa armrest. “Yeah, I don’t know why those buffoons didn’t trust me. I’m better than all of them combined.” 

“I’m sure you are, Changbinnie,” Chan said with a fond smile, a dimple on one side of his face appeared. “But you are one person, there is strength in numbers.” 

Changbin didn’t say anything but opted to give the older a pointed glare. 

“Where is Felix?” Hyunjin said. 

The cold and monotonous nature of Hyunjin’s voice startled Minho. Since the first day Minho had met Hyunjin, he had never heard the younger sound cold unless the person warranted it. To calm the younger, Minho placed a hand on Hyunjin’s shoulder, and almost immediately Hyunjin relaxed. With a shaky exhale, the pinched expression on his face smoothed out. 

Jisung and Changbin exchanged a look before Changbin began to speak. “It’s a bit complicated, but there’s an underground ring where people are auctioned,” Changbin trailed off, an uncomfortable expression on his face. 

“What?” Minho’s blood boiled as memories began to flash before his eyes; the feeling of foreign hands gripping his body in dehumanizing ways, being forced into humiliating positions just for the satisfaction of rich, filthy men, and the pain that would linger for days after they got their way. 

“Your father sells people like livestock?” Hyunjin scoffed drily as he stared down Changbin with utter disgust in his eyes. His face twisted in hatred and Minho couldn’t find it within himself to calm Hyunjin down. He couldn’t when he felt the same way. 

Minho struggled to take a deep breath when he remembered what had happened to Hyunjin years before, the memories of Hyunjin’s past flooded to the forefront of his mind like a crashing wave returning to the beach. Minho couldn’t blame the younger for his strong reaction especially when it must seem like a repeat of history. 

“No, my father does,” Jisung spoke up and Minho nearly broke his neck at how fast he turned to look at the younger. Jisung remained impassive as if he was merely talking about the weather. 

Hyunjin stood abruptly and Minho shot a hand out to wrap around the elf’s wrist, but Hyunjin yanked his arm away. “Is it a family business?” 

Jisung had to crane his neck back to meet Hyunjin’s seething eyes but his blank expression didn’t falter, even when Hyunjin looked close to snapping. 

“No,” Jisung responded calmly and Minho released a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “My father doesn’t know that I know. I help as many as I can to escape.” 

Hyunjin’s eyes fluttered shut as he took a few deep breaths and his eyelashes cast thin shadows across the planes of his face. Hyunjin walked backward until his calves hit the sun-bleached plastic chair before he fell into the seat with a huff of air. When Hyunjin’s sliver irises met Minho’s, he was visibly calmer than before. “That’s good,” Hyunjin said before he averted his gaze to the ground, his head rested in his hands. 

A tense silence lapsed over them as the conversation came to an abrupt end. It didn’t last long, however, when Chan suddenly cleared his throat.

“Anyway, there is an auction soon so we can save him before he’s sold,” Chan said and met Minho’s gaze when the older boy realized that Minho was looking at him. 

Minho nodded and tried not to think about how it seemed as if Chan was looking straight into his soul with his ice-like eyes. “Alright, so what’s the plan?” 

Jisung breathed through his nose as he reached into his jacket to pull out a thin envelope. “I managed to get a few tickets to the auction. My plan is to bid high for Felix then leave once we win.” 

“Sounds like you’ve done this before,” Hyunjin said after he pulled his head away from his hands. He sounded exhausted. 

Nodding, Jisung responded calmly although Minho could hear how his voice wavered slightly. “That’s how I get most of them out of there.”

“So you contribute to the business?” Hyunjin scoffed and crossed his arms. “Doesn’t that make you as bad as your dad?” 

Nothing changed on Jisung’s face but before he could say anything to Hyunjin’s accusations, Changbin spoke up first. “Don’t paint him as the bad guy here.” His words were painted bitter, “You don’t know how awful those places are, Jisung is _saving_ them, don’t compare him to his fucking sorry excuse of a dad.” 

Suddenly Hyunjin was wide awake as his nostrils flared and Minho knew that Changbin struck a delicate cord. “I don’t know how awful those places are?” Hyunjin repeated Changbin’s words, voice low and dangerously angry. “You think I don’t know?” 

“Hyunjin,” Minho began to calm the younger, but he quickly regretted his decision when it appeared that Minho had accidentally cut the last string of rationality in Hyunjin’s mind. 

“No, Hyung!” Hyunjin snapped as he rounded onto Minho. His eyes sparkled in anger but underneath, Minho would see the hurt and pain that swam deep within his pupils. “This short bitch has the audacity to say that I don’t know anything when I know all too well how shit like this goes. And you, Hyung-” 

Minho gulped, not liking how angry Hyunjin was. Minho could count on one hand all the times Hyunjin was seething like he was now. “How are you so calm? You should be angry too.”

“I- I am angry, Hyunjin.” Minho raised his hands as if surrendering. “But-”

“Are you trying to insult me?” Changbin retorted before he abruptly stood to stare Hyunjin down. Jisung quickly rose from his seat to wrap a warning hand around Changbin's upper arm.

“Changbin, calm down,” Chan said, face scrunched in discomfort. 

Changbin and Hyunjin didn’t say anything as they stared, silently challenging the other to say something first. 

“You,” Hyunjin said, voice quiet but dangerous. Changbin’s eye twitched when Hyunjin addressed him informally. “You have no right in saying what I do and don’t know. You don’t know what I’ve been through.” 

A sarcastic half-smile stretched across Changbin’s face as he watched Hyunjin. “I think I have you figured out already. People like you are easy-”

Before Minho could even say anything, Hyunjin pulled back his fist and swung. 

“Enough!” 

Everyone paused when Granny suddenly shouted, including Hyunjin, whose fist was mere inches away from Changbin’s face. 

“You all are children,” she hissed, face red with anger. “Hyunjin, I understand that you are going through a lot as of late, but that is no excuse to let your emotions control you. And you,” Granny rounded onto Changbin and the mage subconsciously flinched back. “How dare you undermine someone’s experiences and assume what they’ve been through.”

A thick silence enveloped them as both Hyunjin and Changbin returned to their seats, heads down low in shame. Minho wasn’t the one who was scolded yet he was shaking and his heart was racing. Minho had made Granny mad once and he swore to never do it again. 

“If I could just say one thing before we move onto a different subject,” Chan said with an awkward smile and flinched slightly when everyone turned to look at him. “The money Jisung uses at the auction returns to the King anyway. It was the King’s before and after the auction so it doesn’t matter. No profit is made.” 

Hyunjin looked away once Chan finished and seemed to find interest in the wood flooring. Changbin scoffed at Hyunjin’s reaction but stopped when he found Minho glaring at him. 

“Anyway,” Jisung coughed. He looked as uncomfortable as Minho felt. “I only managed to get four tickets so one of us will have to sit this one out.” 

The five of them, Chan, Minho, Changbin, Hyunjin, and Jisung all glanced at each other with a mixture of unease on their faces. 

“No way in hell am I going with _him_ ,” Changbin thrust a thumb in Hyunjin’s direction, which made Hyunjin sit straight in his seat.

“No one is making you go,” Granny said as Hyunjin opened his mouth to most likely make an unpleasant remark. 

Changbin scowled and Chan laughed behind his hand, only to cover it with a cough when Changbin turned to redirect his scowl towards the older male. 

“I’m going,” Changbin said with finality. 

“I’m going too,” Minho said next. “Jisung has to go because he knows how this shit goes.”

“I’m obviously going too.” Hyunjin huffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

Minho sent the elf a worried look but Hyunjin pointedly ignored it. “Hyunjin, you don’t have to if-“

“No, I’m going because there’s no way in hell I’m letting anyone touch Felix again,” Hyunjin said with finality and met Minho’s gaze. 

As Minho started into Hyunjin’s eyes, searching for any signs of hesitation, Minho found himself slowly nodding when he realized that Hyunjin was completely serious and there was nothing Minho could say to convince the other. 

Chan sighed and shrugged. “I didn’t want to go in the first place. I’m not much of a fighter.” 

“Surprising considering how much you love to work out,” Jisung said with a sour expression as if the mere thought of working out was enough to make his body sore. 

Chan laughed, “I work out so that I can give the best hugs.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Hey.”

Minho looked up from his knife to see Jisung standing before him. Jisung leaned against the side of the house, making the sun dance across his face before he entered the shadows. 

“Hey,” Minho said. 

“Can I join you?” Jisung nodded to the empty space next to Minho. 

Minho shrugged, “go ahead.” 

Jisung sighed when he sat on the dirt and leaned against the building. The wind picked up slightly, causing Jisung’s hair to flow in the breeze before settling against his forehead messily. 

“Why are you out here?” Jisung asked as he stared into the horizon. 

Minho gave Jisung one last look before he twirled the knife in his hand and abandoned the cloth he used to clean it. “There are too many people inside.”

Jisung made a noise of understanding before they lapsed into silence, however, it wasn’t awkward. Instead, it was comfortable as if they didn’t need words to occupy the space between them. 

“Are you okay?” Minho asked after some time had passed. 

Jisung cracked a smile before scoffing, “shouldn’t I be asking you that?” 

Minho could barely fight the surprise that clung to his chest, demanding his attention. He was almost certain that Jisung would be afraid of him or at least wary after what he did. Jisung’s face, when he watched Minho fight with an indifferent expression and blood splattered across his body, was clouded with fear. And rightfully so. 

Minho shook his head but he gave Jisung a small smile. “I’m fine. I healed.” 

If Jisung was convinced with Minho’s crude response, he didn’t look like it. 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung said after a beat of silence. Minho arched an eyebrow. “I should’ve interfered but it would’ve gotten a lot messier. I know that isn't a good excuse but-" His voice faded to a mere whisper, "Honestly, I wish I wasn’t so weak.” 

Minho didn’t really know what to say as he sat there and stared at Jisung’s profile. The younger had a complicated look on his face but Minho knew exactly what Jisung was feeling because he was the same. It was a look of annoyance, of pain, of disappointment. It was anger for not doing more and not being better. 

A million different thoughts and a million more responses ran through Minho's mind like a whirlwind but he couldn't grasp a single one to say. So, Minho shrugged and turned away from Jisung. “I handled it. I can take care of myself.” 

Jisung scoffed and a dry smile tugged at his lips. “Yeah, you’re not wrong.”

Again, Minho was left clueless as to what Jisung meant. Minho wasn’t someone who’d worry about what other people thought about him, but with Jisung, it was different. Minho didn’t want to hurt him or make him disappointed. The last thing Minho wanted is for Jisung to be upset because of him. But despite trying his hardest to try to understand what Jisung was thinking about, Minho could only sigh and give up empty-handed.

"Hyunjin said the same thing," Minho said instead of asking Jisung if there were hidden implications to his words. 

Jisung turned to look at him with mirth on his lips, "did he really?" 

"Yeah," Minho couldn't help the laugh that squeezed past his chapped lips. "Apparently everyone thinks they could've done better."

"Maybe it's because it's true; we could have done better." 

"Yeah, maybe." 

Wind carded through the leaves on the ground and swept them away in the form of a graceful dance. The sun, low in the shy, bathed them in the last remnants of warmth and Minho soaked it in like how a dehydrated plant needs water. Minho could still see the faint glow of the sun when his eyelids fluttered closed and he could hear how the boy next to him took a shaky breath in before he leaned a little closer so that their shoulders touched. 

Minho felt numb inside but it wasn't an unwanted feeling nor was it unfamiliar. It settled on his bones in a way that Minho had grown to accept and had learned to find peace in. Being numb was how he had been able to reach this point in his life because if he had let his emotions or other trivial matters get in the way, Minho would be too distracted to focus on what was important. So, as Minho enjoyed the warmth emanating from both the sun and from Jisung, Minho felt comfortable enough to slowly embrace the hollow feeling in his chest caused by the missing boy named Felix. 

But, like everything good in the world, this moment of serenity and calmness was temporary and Minho was quick to snap back to reality. 

“Is there a reason why you are out here?” Minho returned the question to Jisung and cracked his tired eyes open. 

“I-” Jisung began but quickly shut his mouth. He looked contemplative, lips downturned. After a second, Jisung took a sharp inhale as if he was breathing in the courage he needed to speak. “Just- what happened to you?”

Minho’s eyes widened briefly before he broke out into a laugh. “What? A lot has happened to me.” 

“No, I mean what happened when you were sixteen? When you were at _that place_.” 

A sudden chill ran down Minho’s spine as his brain made the connection of what Jisung was asking him. The memories of his past flooded his mind as he suddenly remembered all that he went through; the pain, the humiliation, the despair. Involuntarily, Minho’s body froze as if he could physically keep his past buried deep within his soul. 

“Well,” Minho licked his dry lips. 

“I- it’s fine if you don’t want to,” Jisung sputtered, hands flailing as he tried to explain himself.

“Why do you want to know?” 

It looked like Jisung was half expecting the question even if he flinched back in shock. He threaded his fingers together before he began with a slight pout on his lips.

“It’s just that Hyunjin had reacted so strongly and I know that you and Hyunjin and Felix were all there together,” Minho hummed to let Jisung know that he was right and to continue. Jisung licked his lips. “So, it must’ve been bad and I _know_ it was bad but I want to know everything. I want to understand you.” 

Minho couldn’t help but scoff. Jisung really was something else. 

“You and Hyunjin and Felix. I want to understand everyone.”

Chuckles bubbled past Minho’s lips and the tips of Jisung’s ears began to redden.

“W-what? I can’t want to learn more?” 

“No,” Minho shook his head, a small disbelieving smile on his lips. “I guess not.” 

Minho turned his full body to give Jisung a hard look, purposely making the younger squirm in his seat. Minho's past was something that Minho had learned to bottle up neatly and shelf away to the furthest and dustiest corner of his brain. But even if he didn’t want to admit it, Minho found himself wanting to tell Jisung what had happened. Something had changed within Minho and he knew it was partially due to the boy in front of him. 

Change was something Minho loathed. It brought discomfort and made Minho paranoid that he would lose control and revert back to being a puppet for someone to play with then later discard at their whims. But their lives, as much as Minho would never have wanted, was far more intertwined than he initially realized, woven into one like a thread. 

Minho found himself adapting to the change, and even welcoming the strange feelings it brought. The flutter in his stomach and the erratic beating of his heart was something Minho couldn’t ignore. 

Talking about what had happened to him all those years ago was something that would send chills down his spine and leave his mouth dry. But now, Minho could only stare into Jisung’s emerald eyes and watch as hunger clung to the edges of his beautiful irises, desperate and needy. 

Hunger for what? Minho wasn’t sure but the unknown didn’t scare him for once. 

“I’ll tell you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Pain._

_That’s all he could feel and all that he could think of. His entire head fucking hurt. It felt as if someone took a hot iron rod and bashed it in his skull with a hammer._

_His eyes fluttered open and it took him a second to process where he was. He was in a dark, damp room on a very uncomfortable and lumpy cot. Something cool yet moist was on his head, but it barely did anything to ease the burning in his skull. Sweat caused his shirt to cling onto his chest and back, which only added to his discomfort._

_He groaned and attempted to get up, but a pair of hands pushed him back onto the mattress. He wasn’t complaining though, moving caused his head to spin._

_“Hey, hey, hey,” a gentle voice spoke up. “Don’t move yet.”_

_“Where am I?” He croaked, voice hoarse and throat dry._

_When the voice didn’t say anything back, he turned his head to see a boy who must’ve been only a year or so younger than him staring back. His eyes were a striking silver color and his ears poked out of his hair, pointed at the tip. His black hair was long, long enough that it brushed and fell past his shoulder when he leaned over to look at him._

_“What’s your name?” The boy ignored his question._

_It took him a second to think; his name was on the tip of his tongue, yet for some reason, it didn’t immediately come to him._

_“I- I don’t remember.” He started to shake as panic started to settle in. “Why can’t I remember? Who am I?”_

_“Hey, don’t worry.” The boy reached out and held his hand. “Take a deep breath and just relax. It’ll come to you eventually.”_

_Taking a shaky inhale, he tried to clear his foggy mind but he couldn’t think straight due to the pain that still seared through his head. The boy continued to talk about nothing in particular but he couldn’t find it within himself to be annoyed, it was a welcomed distraction._

_“My best friend, Felix, is an angel. He has really pretty wings but people never treat him right so they’re not as pretty as they could be but that’s okay because I love him nonetheless. He has really helped me in this place because I hate being alone but he-”_

_“It's Minho.”_

_“What? Your name?” The boy’s head tilted cutely to the side as his eyes widened._

_Minho nodded. “Yeah. Lee Minho.”_

_“Alright Minho,” the boy said with a wide grin on his face. “I’m Hwang Hyunjin! It’s a pleasure to meet you!”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Hyunjin spread his arms out as he twirled slowly in a circle, but he had to pull his arms in due to how narrow the hallway they currently stood in was. “And that’s most of the house. Upstairs is where our rooms are.”_

_They had just left the living room and Minho had more questions than answers. One of the main concerns Minho had was why Hyunjin seemed to hate the living room when it was arguably the nicest place in the house. If Minho could, he’d probably hang out all the time in there. The faux leather couches and the plush cushions looked extremely comfortable. Not to mention how the windows allowed the warm sunlight to filter through. It was the perfect place for a nap._

_Hyunjin turned to head to the staircase that they had passed earlier, but a motion in Minho’s peripheral vision caught his attention. Something white and feathery disappeared into a hallway that Hyunjin had yet to show him._

_“What about that hallway, Hyunjin?” Minho pointed behind him where he saw the figure disappear._

_The elf turned around to look where Minho gestured to, but his face quickly hardened when he realized. “I’ll tell you some other time, Minho.”_

_A frown tugged on the corner of Minho’s lips, but Minho, never one to argue, dropped it. It was clear that whatever back there made Hyunjin uncomfortable and Minho didn’t want him to feel that way especially since Hyunjin had only been nothing but kind to him._

_They made their way up the stairs and Minho realized that besides the stranger that disappeared into the hallway and Hyunjin, he had yet to see anyone else._

_“Is there anyone else here? You spoke of a few others before,” Minho asked Hyunjin when they reached the top of the staircase._

_Again, an uncomfortable expression flashed across Hyunjin’s face. “They’re busy,” Hyunjin said. “You’ll see them at dinner. We can all help to explain more then.”_

_Minho shrugged. “Alright.”_

_“Anyway,” Hyunjin laughed as if trying to mask his unease. “Here’s your room! It’s right next to mine!”_

  
  
  
  


_Minho found out where he was and where the hallway in the back of the house led to and why Hyunjin hated the living room._

_A whore house, that was where he was. Never in a million years, even if he had no recollection of his previous years, would have guessed that he'd be sold as a tool for other people to use for their own pleasure. He was taken in by Mama, the head of the place, and someone must’ve erased his memory since he can’t remember what his life was like before, but maybe it was for the better._

_You can’t miss what you can’t remember after all._

_The hallway at the back of the house, Minho found out during dinner when a spoonful of soup was in his mouth, led to rooms where the so-called ‘activities’ took place. Minho wished he never asked about it._

_Hyunjin hated the living room because that was where everyone went to be scrutinized like meat then bought and used. All twelve of them, ages ranging from thirteen to eighteen, were expected to do their part in order for Mama to maximize her profits, and tomorrow, Minho had to join the rest of them in the living room._

_But for one more day, Minho was safe. He clung to the thought in order to prevent his mind from spiraling into madness and anxiety._

_The last client left a while ago and Minho just finished cleaning when Hyunjin entered the room. He wore a shirt that barely covered his lower region and his long hair was knotted and tangled._

_“Hey, Minho.” Hyunjin smiled, but it didn’t quite reach his tired eyes. Purplish bruises dusted his neck and his red knees contrasted with his pale skin._

_Minho walked up to Hyunjin and let the taller boy lean on him as they made their way to the bath. Although it wasn’t in the best condition, it was one of the nicest things about the place. Styled like traditional Japanese bathhouses, it had a changing area that led to a showering station then a large bath that everyone could use together. There was only one bath so the girls and boys showered and bathed together but it wasn’t like they were strangers to what the other gender looked like, so no one really cared._

_The others had already moved into the bath when he and Hyunjin had arrived, their laughter and splashes of water could be heard from the shower area._

_The two of them shredded their clothes and entered the shower in silence. As Hyunjin turned on the shower above him, Minho grabbed the shampoo to restore Hyunjin’s hair to a cleaner and tangle-free state._

_It was a tradition of sorts that he and Hyunjin developed; Minho would wash and untangle Hyunjin’s hair as thanks for the extra work he had to go through in order for Minho to get used to his new surroundings. Hyunjin would relax under Minho’s nimble fingers and claim that Minho was sent from the heavens to bless Hyunjin’s scalp._

_Once all of the shampoo suds were gone from Hyunjin’s hair, Minho started to wash his own. As he massaged his scalp with his calloused hands, caused by scrubbing the floors clean, a whirlpool of thoughts plagued his mind endlessly. He couldn’t help but think about the what-ifs and the horrors of what tomorrow would bring._

_“-ho. Minho!”_

_“Huh? What?” Minho turned to see Hyunjin watching him with an unreadable expression on his face._

_“Are you alright?”_

_“Sorry. I was just thinking.”_

_When Hyunjin gave him a skeptical look, Minho sighed and explained more as he washed the suds away, ”I just can’t help but think about what might happen tomorrow.”_

_It was Hyunjin this time who sighed and looked away, hiding his face from Minho._

_“Hey, Hyunjin. About tomor-“_

_Before Minho could finish his sentence, he suddenly found himself on his back, the cold bathroom tiles freezing his skin. Hyunjin’s silver eyes stared into his as Hyunjin’s slender arms caged him in on both sides._

_“Minho,” Hyunjin’s face was blank as if he had given up and had nothing to lose. “There’s no easy way to say this, but tomorrow is going to be hell for you.”_

_Minho gulped and stared back, eyes blown wide. His heart pounded in his chest and he wanted nothing more than a hole to suddenly appear and swallow him whole._

_“The best advice I can give you is this; always prepare beforehand.”_

_“What are you talking about?” Minho wasn’t sure if he wanted to know._

_Without saying anything else, Hyunjin grabbed Minho’s ankles and tossed Minho’s legs over his shoulders. Leaning forward, Hyunjin caged Minho in again, his face just as solemn as before._

_“What are you doing?” Minho felt like a pretzel, blood rushing straight to his cheeks._

_Raising a hand to his mouth, Minho watched as Hyunjin spat on his fingers and lowered his hand to someplace Minho couldn’t see from his position. Minho’s eyebrows bunched close together in confusion before he felt something prod at his entrance._

_“Hyunjin?” Panic shot through Minho’s body and his throat suddenly closed tight._

_“Minho,” Hyunjin sighed and looked at him, sadness dusting his handsome features. “I’m sorry. I don’t want to do this to you, but I think it would be better if your first time was with me than some stranger shoving whatever into you without any preparation whatsoever.”_

_Minho frantically searched with naive hope for any sign of humor on Hyunjin’s face, but he knew that it was a fruitless cause. Hyunjin was right._

_“Okay,” was all he could say. Minho could barely breathe._

_“Don’t worry, I’ll help you prep tomorrow. I’ll help you until you can do it yourself.” Hyunjin began to draw circles around Minho’s entrance and he couldn’t help it when his face flushed once Hyunjin pressed a cold finger against it. “Relax.”_

_A quiet gasp slipped past Minho’s red lips and he couldn’t help but tense up when Hyunjin’s finger slipped through._

_“Minho,” Hyunjin’s voice was sharp._

_“I know, I know.” Minho hated how he felt close to tears. It didn’t even hurt, it was just an alien feeling. Shutting his eyes close tight, he tried to relax._

_Eventually, Hyunjin slipped his whole finger in and began to move to it. Minho’s eyes fluttered open and he couldn’t help the small moan and the jut of his hips when Hyunjin found a particularly sensitive spot._

_“Wait, Hyunjin-“ Minho’s face felt hotter than before. He covered his face with his hands, mortified, as he felt himself grow hard._

_“Minho, it’s okay.” Hyunjin momentarily paused to gently remove Minho’s hands from his face. “Enjoy it while you can. Tomorrow isn’t going to feel as nice as it does now.”_

_Minho nodded frantically as he screwed his eyes tightly shut and bit his cheeks to keep from making any unnecessary sounds. His toes curled when Hyunjin inserted another finger, tears slipped and rolled down his face when a third made its way in._

_“Hyunjin?” Minho opened his eyes weakly and glanced at the aforementioned boy. The elf met his eyes and gave him a reassuring smile. “I-“ a gasp interrupted his sentence and a shudder raked through his body._

_“What is it, Minho?”_

_“You can-“ another gasp and a tremor, “you can stop now.” Minho clenched his eyes shut again and held Hyunjin’s wrist tightly to make him stop. His body felt as if it was on fire and everything within him screamed to make Hyunjin continue. He was so close, but it felt wrong._

_A soft hand caressed his cheek and wiped a tear away, unbeknownst to Minho that it was there in the first place. Minho opened his eyes again only to find Hyunjin watching him carefully, looking… apologetic?_

_“I’m sorry, but no one is going to respect your decision to stop in the near future.”_

_Huh?_

_Without a warning, Hyunjin’s fingers curled and he increased his movements. Minho couldn’t help the loud moan when Hyunjin’s slender fingers wrapped around his dick and stroked it in sync with his fingers. Clamping a hand over his mouth, Minho’s eyes rolled back and his toes curled. Everything suddenly felt too much with Hyunjin’s rough movements and the feeling of something building deep within the depths of his belly, threatening to burst._

_A muffled moan was the only sound when Minho’s vision went white and something warm and sticky fell on his chest. As Minho’s breathing calmed down, Hyunjin removed his fingers, and Minho couldn’t help but felt weird as his entrance tried to close around something that wasn’t there._

_“Sorry, Minho,” Hyunjin mumbled and pulled Minho to a sitting position. Minho could only look blankly at the boy before him as he slowly calmed his erratic heart._

_“I- no. It’s fine.” He trusted Hyunjin and knew what the elf did was probably for the best, but he still felt dirty and everything still felt wrong._

_As Minho washed away the evidence of what had happened minutes prior, the sound of the door sliding and closing announced the presence of someone else. Both he and Hyunjin turned to see Felix walk in._

_His hair, dyed blonde to feed the ‘angel from heaven’ stereotype, was messy and almost covered his eyes, his wings were dirty and multiple feathers were missing. It pained Minho to see how exhausted Felix was. Minho couldn’t remember when he was born, but he knew that he was older than Felix and he felt like it was his responsibility to take care of the younger boy._

_A frown formed on Hyunjin’s full lips as he made his way to his best friend. He wrapped his arms around Felix and swayed them back and forth before he kissed Felix’s forehead and led him to a showerhead._

_Felix sat on a plastic stool as Hyunjin wordlessly began to massage the shampoo in Felix’s hair. The younger closed his eyes and eventually, Minho thought he fell asleep. Wanting to help make the boy feel better, Minho grabbed a sponge and some soap and began to gently clean Felix’s wings._

_Felix’s wing twitched out of Minho’s grasp and he glanced up to see Felix staring coldly at Minho through the mirror. Hyunjin was also looking at him, but he had an unreadable expression on his face._

_“Oh, sorry,” Minho mumbled, for some reason feeling ashamed. “I just wanted to help.”_

_Felix stared at him for a second longer before he sighed and closed his eyes again, his wing returning to Minho’s open hand. “It’s fine. Just be gentle.”_

_Minho’s eyes widened and he looked at Hyunjin in disbelief. The elven boy just winked at Minho and continued to clean Felix’s hair as a small victory smile made its way onto Minho’s face._

_With the utmost care, Minho ran the sponge over the soft, white feathers. Felix’s wings, when pulled close to his body, reached his knees and Minho wondered how they would look if Felix was ever freed from this place and could fly on his own. Minho, after some careful consideration as he rinsed the soap off of Felix’s wings, decided that freedom would look absolutely breathtaking on the angel._

_Minho’s worries about the next day were momentarily gone from his mind as he focused on the task before him._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_Persistent knocking on his door woke Minho from his half-sleep state._

_He rubbed his eyes then glanced out the small window to see that the sun barely peeked over the horizon. Who in the world was at his door?_

_Minho begrudgingly went to open the door and quickly woke up completely once he saw Hyunjin and Felix standing before his door, both still in their pajamas._

_“What are you doing?” Minho whispered, scared about getting caught. They weren’t supposed to be out of their rooms._

_“We’re here to give you advice,” Hyunjin whispered back as they entered Minho’s tiny room._

_Ah, right. Minho’s first day in the living room was only a few hours away. How could he forget? It wasn’t like the sheer thought of going downstairs in the morning was helping him sleep soundly._

_He gulped and nodded as he sat on his bed. Hyunjin sat backward in his desk chair as Felix plopped on the ground, snatching Minho’s pillow to hug._

_“So first things first,” Hyunjin began. “Just let them do whatever. Don’t fight back and don’t panic. It’ll be over faster if you just accept it.”_

_Felix nodded although his eyes were closed. The light from the early sun rays only made Felix look more tired than he usually did, his eyes bags significantly more noticeable._

_Hyunjin and Felix went on, alternating between who would give him advice. Minho just wanted nothing more than for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. Out of all of the places to end up, why did he end up here?_

_Eventually, Hyunjin and Felix ran out of advice for him and Minho continued to stare at the floor beneath his toes._

_“You’d probably get one or two clients since it's your first day,” Felix said bluntly. “Sorry to say but as you get more experienced, you’d probably get more because you’re pretty so people will flock to you.”_

_Hyunjin nodded his agreement and Minho sighed. Just his luck._

_“Probably why you two get so many then,” Minho muttered. “You’re both very pretty.”_

_Felix laughed quietly as not to wake anyone. “Hyunjin definitely is. I’m not.”_

_“Oh shut up,” Hyunjin whispered-yelled. “You’re super gorgeous.”_

_“Yeah, Felix!” Minho agreed with Hyunjin as Felix stared at both of them, surprise in his eyes. “Especially with your wings, you’re so stunning.”_

_Something shifted in Felix’s eyes for a brief second but Minho brushed it off as nothing. He was too drowsy to think much of it._

_“Anyway, you should go to sleep, Hyung,” Hyunjin mumbled when Felix didn’t say anything. It was after their bath when Minho remembered when he was born and they realized that he was only a few months older than them._

_“Stay with me,” Minho whispered and patted the space beside him on the tiny mattress._

_Hyunjin and Felix exchanged a look before they both crawled under the blanket and relief blossomed in Minho’s chest, small and frail, but still there nonetheless. Minho pressed against the wall and Hyunjin laid between him and Felix. Felix had to lay in a position that was probably not comfortable but it was the best way in order for them to not accidentally hurt his wings. Hyunjin’s long hair tickled Minho’s neck but he wasn’t complaining._

_Eventually, Minho’s eyes slipped shut, and sleep slowly pulled him under despite the anxiety rushing beneath his skin._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_The sun hit Minho square in the face and nearly blinded him when he woke up._

_He glanced at the sleeping figure next to him and chuckled at the drool pooling where Hyunjin slept. His joy didn’t stay for long once he remembered what day it was._

_Minho pushed himself onto his arm to look over Hyunjin to see how Felix slept, however, the winged boy wasn’t there._

_The sleep in his body was quickly replaced with panic as Minho shook Hyunjin frantically. “Wake up, Hyunjin!” He hissed._

_“What?” The wood elf mumbled._

_“Where’s Felix? He’s not here.”_

_Hyunjin rolled over and noticed the blank space beside him. “He’s probably in the bathroom or something,” Hyunjin muttered before rolling back and fluttered his eyes closed._

_“Oh. Right.”_

_Minho shook his head and silently chastised himself for getting worked up over nothing. He took a deep breath to calm his frantic heart, but before he could do anything else, a scream sliced through the early morning silence and Hyunjin sat up from where he lay, his eyes blown wide open._

_The two of them exchanged a look before they both flew out of the room. Minho barely processed the cold wooden flooring under his feet as they scrambled to the source of the sound._

_Hyunjin raced ahead and narrowly dodged the door that suddenly opened. Minho wasn’t as lucky and had to halt before the open door since there wasn’t enough space between the door and the railing to squeeze past. Joon, the oldest boy in the house, peaked his head out and made eye contact with him._

_“What was that?” Joon croaked, his voice scratchy from just waking up._

_“I don’t know,” Minho responded. All he did know was that he didn’t have a good feeling about it._

_“Oh okay,” Joon mumbled before he closed his door so Minho could go past. Minho ran down the stairs, taking two at a time, and reached the bottom floor. He heaved for air as he scanned Hyunjin’s back in the doorway to the living room._

_He slowed his steps and walked tentatively behind the tall boy. Peering over Hyunjin’s shoulder, Minho couldn’t help the gasp that left his lips._

_Felix laid in front of the fireplace on his side in a puddle of blood, unmoving. Where his wings were, his skin was charred and black and the still orange fire poker that sat in the fireplace was obviously the culprit._

_Felix’s wings that once used to sparkle iridescently in the sunlight laid a few inches away from his body. They no longer were white and pure, now yellowing and wilting like a flower that had been ignored for a couple of days._

_Their owner, the person who was in charge of the business, was a plump woman who they called Mama. Mama constantly wore too much makeup as an attempt to hide her wrinkled and aging skin along with clothes meant for people half her age. She sat next to Felix’s wings and carefully picked up one of the wings only for it to break and fall apart into dust._

_She wailed as if she lost a child but Minho knew she was crying over the fact that Felix would be less valuable now, less profitable._

_Minho could feel how much Hyunjin was shaking despite the distance between their bodies. Grabbing Hyunjin’s hand, the taller boy squeezed Minho’s hand tightly but Hyunjin’s eyes never wavered from his best friend’s unconscious body._

_“Hyunjin,” Mama said between sobs. “Take Felix to the sick room in the basement and take care of him. And you,” she pointed at Minho. “Clean up this mess before the first client comes.” She then stood up on her thick legs and left the room presumably to go cry in her own room._

_Minho gave Hyunjin’s hand one last squeeze before Hyunjin moved to pick up Felix. Hyunjin looked close to crying but no tears slipped down his cheeks._

_“He’ll be okay.” Minho could only say._

_Hyunjin nodded once before he turned around to head to the basement._

  
  
  
  


_Minho stood in the dreaded living room and wore nothing but a thin, sheer dress shirt._

_Hyunjin had entered the living room seconds before the first client came and looked extremely tired and stressed. Minho gave Hyunjin’s hand a gentle squeeze which Hyunjin had reciprocated briefly before he broke their hands apart._

_Glancing around the room, Minho noticed how drastically different all of his friends’ faces were. He was used to seeing them laughing and smiling, having fun. But now, their faces were blank canvases, impassive and uncaring. Even the youngest one, Yeri, had perfected the facade._

_Most clients would come in and talk to Mama for a bit or maybe share a puff on her hookah before they'd enter the living room and scan them like meat in a butcher shop. Once they found the person they wanted to fuck, they’re hand Mama some money and drag the victim to a room at the back of the house._

_It was disgusting how Yeri was one of the first to go. Minho wanted to scream and tell the hideous men to get their nasty hands off of the thirteen-year-old, but he couldn’t. His voice wouldn’t work and his throat felt like sandpaper._

_He was a coward._

_More and more of his friends left as time went on and Minho felt worse with every second._

_A man, whose face looked like a pumpkin that had been cross-bred with a toad, grabbed Hyunjin’s arm and tugged him away. He buried his face in Hyunjin’s neck and the tall boy let him._

_As they passed, Minho and Hyunjin made eye contact. Hyunjin’s silver eyes were empty but the elf sent him a small smile, momentarily breaking the facade. Unfortunately, it was gone in an instant, extinguished like a flame without oxygen, and Minho felt more hopeless than before._

_There were seven of them left and Minho felt like puking._

_The crude light fixture above him flickered as Minho stared at the floor and counted how many seconds went by before a hand yanked his chin up._

_542 seconds._

_“Hey, Mama!” The man in front of him bellowed. He wore a clean suit but his face was unshaven. “Is this one new? He has that look in his eyes like he’s going to piss his pants!”_

_“Yeah, he’s new,” Mama spoke with indifference. “He’s a catch, isn’t he? Cute.”_

_“He is.” The man said as he leaned in close to examine Minho’s face. His breath fanned over Minho’s face and smelled like cigarettes. “Well, you know how I like to break in the new ones, I’ll take this one.”_

_Mama nodded before she disappeared from view. The man tugged on Minho’s arm and started to leave the living room. Minho stumbled but the man didn’t care; he kept walking._

_He was led down the hallway and into an unfamiliar corridor. It was the first time Minho had been in this part of the house, always too scared to enter previously, but he couldn’t find the strength to tear his gaze away from his stumbling feet to observe his new surroundings._

_The man opened a door and shoved Minho in who tripped and fell onto the floor with a thud. A lightbulb hung from the ceiling and a full bed occupied most of the space in the small room. Something heavy hung in the air but Minho couldn’t identify the smell._

_“Isn’t this exciting?” Something sinister twinkled in the man’s eyes as his face split to form a wide, Cheshire cat grin._

_Minho could only stare wide-eyed at the man and tremble helplessly when he slowly approached him. Minho’s eyes clenched shut when a dry hand caressed his cheek._

_“Oh I love this,” the man muttered to no one in particular. “I love how you look like prey. You’re so beautiful and dainty, did you know that? I can’t wait to take your innocence.”_

_Nausea filled the pit of Minho’s stomach when a hand slipped under his shirt and caressed his torso. Minho couldn’t breathe as panic flooded his body and made him lightheaded._

_A warm breath of air tickled the shell of Minho’s ear, causing him to flinch away, but the hand on his body held him still. “We’re going to have so much fun.”_

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_“You hear what the King is starting to do now?” Joon spoke up as Christy, another girl that Minho had befriended, placed a bowl of soup in front of him._

_“What’d he do?” Minho asked as he peered up from his own bowl._

_“I think he lost his marbles or something. He’s been sending troops to cities who so much as utter a foul word about his regime.” Joon tsked and shook his head._

_A frown etched on Felix’s face as he mulled over Joon’s words. He had recovered from his wounds quickly and no one mentioned the missing appendages. “But he said that he was all about freedom when he was crowned.”_

_Albert, a boy with thick glasses and a fluffy bowl cut, shrugged from across the table and waved his hand dismissively. “People lie all the time. I’m not surprised that all the power is starting to get to his head.”_

_The others murmured their agreement before they fell into silence. Minho stared at the cloudy soup and watched how his reflection warped and wiggled as he agitated the warm liquid, suddenly not hungry anymore._

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


_After two years of being in the wretched whore house, Minho had gotten used to his life._

_Wake up, clean, and take care of the house until it was evening. Change into his nicest shirt, then wait until someone wanted him._

_Minho was used to the roaming hands, the foreign substances forced down his throat, being numb._

_Minho was used to it all. He hated everything and everyone except for his friends, but he’s helpless and worth nothing._

_Nothing really mattered anymore._

_But when things started to change, Minho realized that his life wasn’t going to be the same._

_No one came for the third day and Mama grew anxious._

_The twelve of them sat in the living room and remained as silent as they could while Mama paced the floor. Minho picked at the fraying hem of his old button-up and avoided eye contact._

_“Where is everyone? They promised they would be loyal customers as long as I kept my prices low!” She screamed at no one in particular. “Just because the King threatened to send troops doesn’t mean they can just stop coming, I need money like the rest of us!”_

_Yeri whimpered and curled away from Mama’s fiery gaze, however, that only seemed to make Mama angrier._

_“What did you despicable children do, huh?” Mama barked, spit flew out of her mouth and landed on the fragile wood floor. “Was it you, you brat?” Mama hissed as she grabbed Yeri’s small shoulder and shook her violently._

_“I- I didn’t do anything.” Yeri’s small voice quivered._

_All eleven heads simultaneously snapped up once they heard Yeri’s small cry. Mama shoved the young girl to the ground and began to kick her mercilessly._

_Static filled Minho’s mind as he helplessly watched. Why was the world so cruel to the people who deserved it the least?_

_“Stop!”_

_Mama’s foot hovered in the air for a second before she set it down. Slowly, the large woman turned around and bore her beady little eyes at Minho. “What did you say, you brat?”_

_Minho’s eyes widened when he found himself standing and realized that he was the one who had yelled. “I- stop kicking her. She didn’t do anything.” His voice came out weak and pathetic._

_“Or what?” Mama sneered. “You’ll kill me?”_

_Minho struggled to think of an answer as he tried to swallow his saliva, his throat closed up. He cast a fleeting glance at the others in the room but they all stared back at him with disbelief dancing in their irises. No one spoke up._

_“I- um,”_

_“I’ll kill you first, you whore.” Mama grabbed an empty flower vase next to her and approached Minho with thunderous steps. “I’ll kill all of you.”_

_Minho’s heart pounded in his chest and he was sure that everyone could hear how frantic it was. Clenching his trembling hands into fists, Minho met Mama’s beady eyes as she approached him._

_Her loud footsteps echoed in his mind as time seemed to suddenly slow, but as she neared, Minho had the sudden epiphany that he couldn’t back down now. It didn’t matter if she beat him half to death because Minho didn’t value his life anymore. Everything had already been taken away from Minho; his memories, his dignity, his self-worth, what else was there to lose? His life? That didn’t mean much anymore._

_Minho steeled his gaze and promised himself to never back down again._

_Mama raised the vase as a murderous glint flashed in her ugly eyes, but before she could swing the vase against Minho’s skull, a sudden and loud boom caused the whole house to shake and dust to fall from the ceiling._

_“What was that?” Mama’s scratchy voice questioned. She lowered her arm and moved to glance out the window behind Minho. Minho carefully glanced over his shoulder in time to see the royal guards flood the thin, dark streets of their city. “No! No, it can’t be! Not yet!” Mama exclaimed as she dropped the vase and rushed to her office._

_Silent, everything was too silent as the twelve of them exchanged a look before the house shook once more when another bomb went off, but this time a lot closer._

_“Go! Pack your things and leave this wretched place,” Joon yelled as he grabbed the hands of the youngest and raced to the stairs._

_Everyone seemed to have snapped back to reality as they all followed Joon’s lead and ran up the stairs to pack._

_“Wait,” Hyunjin spoke up as he grabbed Minho’s wrist as their friends ran past them. “Where are we going to go?”_

_“We?” Minho dumbly responded._

_Felix, who stood behind Hyunjin nodded his head. “That’s right, we. Us. Where are we going to go, Hyung?”_

_Minho glanced between the two of them and suddenly remembered all that they’ve sacrificed for him and all the pain they went through for Minho’s sake. He stared into their eyes that seemed too mature for boys their age and suddenly came to the realization that he would gladly put his life on the line if it meant that these two boys would be happy and healthy. No more being a coward._

_The universe turned its back on them first and Minho accepted the fact that no one was going to save them. If he wanted something, he’d have to do it himself._

_As he met the steady gazes of Hyunjin and Felix, Minho decided that he would rather travel to hell and back than let Hyunjin and Felix get hurt anymore from the hands of selfish bastards who think they’re entitled to anything they want._

_Minho’s gaze hardened as he figured out where they were going to go. Another ground-shaking boom resonated throughout the house but it barely registered in Minho’s brain. “Seoul. We’re going to Seoul.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> To be honest, I am slowly hating my own writing more and more as time goes on, which in term makes me want to update less. However, I am many things and one of those things includes stubborn, so I will not stop updating. I will just push through the pain. I've noticed a lot of plot holes and I wish I could go back in time and fix them, but alas, I cannot. I think it's kind of too late to go back and fix them bc I might end up creating a whole other subplot or whatever and I frankly do not want to do that. I suppose that the pain I am feeling is a testament to my growth as a writer, so maybe everything will be okay. All that I wish to share from my crude experience as an "author" is this: make a fucking outline no matter how crummy it is. It'll help so fuckin much I promise. 
> 
> okay bye, ily have fun reading.


	11. Legicide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Legicide: a person who destroys/ undermines the authority of the law
> 
> Minho gets his angel back but loses a prince.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is one of my favorite chapters hehe
> 
> As always, enjoy

“Hey Hyung,” Hyunjin greeted the moment Minho swung the door open, hand still raised in the air from when Minho had opened the door amid his knock. 

Minho cracked a returning smile and leaned against the bathroom counter when Hyunjin didn’t make any effort to move. “Hey.”

Giving the younger a quick once over, Minho was reminded of how beautiful the elf was. Minho had known this fact ever since he had first met Hyunjin, but it was times like this when Hyunjin wanted to look good that made Minho slightly jealous. 

Hyunjin, in his admiral blue suit, was something Minho had never seen before. The jacket was buttoned completely but tulle of a matching blue peeked through the sleeves and past the collar. It framed his neck and made his skin appear paler. Part of his suit jacket was black to match the younger’s freshly dyed hair and broke up the monotony of his outfit. The matching suit pants made Hyunjin’s already long legs appear longer and left Minho questioning if the elf had always been this handsome. 

If Hyunjin was in a different universe, perhaps he’d be a prince. 

“I’ve never realized how good royalty looks on you,” Minho said and gained immense pleasure when Hyunjin’s face began to rapidly redden at the compliment. 

“Of course I look good,” Hyunjin huffed but no matter how nonchalant he acted, Minho knew how affected he really was. 

The light atmosphere slowly soured as a brief moment of silence washed over them. Minho traced the complicated expression on Hyunjin’s face with his eyes, not liking how troubled the younger looked. 

“Hyunjin, it-“

“Hyung, stop,” Hyunjin interrupted, holding a hand up. When Hyunjin tore his gaze from the tiles, Minho was met with a wave of confidence he didn’t realize the younger had. “I know what you’re going to say and I really appreciate your concern, but I can do this. I  _ have  _ to do this.”

Minho, after a moment of contemplation, swallowed his rebuttal and tried not to gag on it. “I know, Hyunjin.”

“Let me go with you- I need to save Felix. I can’t just sit here and wait for you to come back." Hyunjin's voice was strong as he encaptured Minho's gaze with his and Minho wouldn't be surprised if Hyunjin could see into his soul. "I have to make sure that he’s okay and I have to be the first to see him.” 

Minho really wanted to say otherwise but he knew that would make him a hypocrite if he did. He wanted to get Felix back just as badly as Hyunjin did. To not let the younger go would be too cruel. 

With a defeated sigh, Minho dropped the subject and gestured to the garment bag in Hyunjin’s arms. “What’s that?” 

As if shocked, Hyunjin jumped and his eyes widened minutely. “Oh, this is your suit. Hurry and try it on so Granny can make some last-minute corrections before we have to go.” 

Minho nodded and closed the door after Hyunjin thrust the bag into his arms. Zipping the bag open, Minho’s breath caught in his throat as he was met with clothes that would’ve cost Minho his entire fortune. Minho held the velvet material closer to his face to get a better look and was fascinated with how the material seemed to shimmer under the crude light. 

The craftsmanship was so well done, Minho had trouble believing that Granny had done it herself. The older lady insisted that she could do the sewing when they discussed their plan despite Jisung’s protest. Minho didn’t pay any attention to the commotion when Jisung had returned one afternoon with bundles of fabric since Minho had never been one to be intrigued by such things, but as Minho turned the garment over in his hands, he couldn’t help but wish he had paid at least a small bit of attention. 

Slipping into the clothes, Minho met his mismatched eyes in the mirror before he slowly examined how he looked. 

He looked damn fine. 

Of course, Minho was no stranger to the fact that he was attractive because that was something he exploited to gain money before he joined the company. It was still shocking to be reminded though. 

The silver chains detail draped over his shoulders caught the light and glinted as he shifted to examine every angle. As he turned back to face the mirror properly, he pulled out the matching silver necklace so it could rest against his black dress shirt. 

Minho sucked in a grounding breath before a knock on the door startled him. 

“Hey, you done- oh wow.” 

Sticking his head past the door, Jisung didn’t hide how his eyes scanned Minho slowly as if this would be the only chance he’ll get to see Minho. 

“Not bad, right?” Minho said before he carded his fingers through his hair as a lame attempt to style it. 

Minho ignored how Jisung shook his head before he squeezed into the small bathroom and shut the door behind him. Minho couldn’t help how he too dragged his eyes over Jisung. How could he not when Jisung looked absolutely regal? 

Jisung’s suit was a similar color to Hyunjin’s suit but made of the same material as Minho’s jacket. Upon closer inspection, the younger wore a vest of a lighter blue which helped to break the dark tones of his jacket and his black turtleneck. A simple silver chain rested on his collarbones, matching the intricate broach on Jisung’s lapel. 

“Here, let me,” Jisung said as he reached towards Minho’s hair, but involuntarily, Minho flinched back. 

Hurt undeniably flashed across Jisung’s face and guilt immediately flooded Minho’s body, leaving him cold and his heart hurting. Minho knew he had been avoiding the younger since the day he told Jisung of what had happened so many years ago, but he couldn’t find it within himself to accept the consequences of his actions. Despite everything, Minho was still a coward and was still afraid of getting hurt. 

For the first time in a long time, an awkward silence filled the empty space around them, thick enough that Minho could slice with his knife if he wanted to. 

“I should go,” Jisung mumbled and when Minho didn’t respond, the younger turned to leave. 

“Wait,” Minho found himself saying, and without realizing, his hand wrapped around Jisung’s wrist to hold the younger back. 

“What is it?” Jisung asked. He tilted his head slightly as his eyes silently implored Minho’s. 

Minho licked his lips. Fuck, he didn’t think this far. 

“Um,” Minho said elegantly, his face rapidly reddened the longer Jisung stared at him. 

One thing Minho liked about Jisung is that Jisung had many things that Minho does not, and one of those things included patience. 

“Please help me,” Minho finally managed to mumble. 

“Help you with what?” Jisung asked and a soft smile appeared on his rose-colored lips. 

“Fuck you,” Minho scoffed and just like that, the awkward atmosphere was gone. “You know what I need help with.” 

“I really don’t,” Jisung’s smile turned teasing, “you need help with a lot of things.” 

With a groan, Minho gave in to Jisung’s teasing antics. “Please help me style my hair.” 

Jisung giggled, light and airy and perfect, before he slowly reached for the hair gel on the sink counter. “I guess I have no choice but to help you since you are so useless.” 

Minho rolled his eyes. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Heads up.”

Minho’s hand came up to catch the object thrown at him before it could come into contact with his face. With an eyebrow arched, Minho found an elegant masquerade mask in his hands. It was the same rouge as his suit with silver chains hanging from the bottom. 

“Why?” Minho acknowledged the craftsmanship that went into making a beautiful accessory, but was it really necessary? 

Changbin rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, making his red and black silk button-up stretch over his chest. The silver chain shoulder piece on his right shoulder glinted in the crude light. “Even though those whores like to flaunt their money, they don’t actually want people to know who they are, hence the mask.” 

Minho turned the mask over and ran a thumb over the smooth black crushed velvet lining the back. “They’re cowards,” Minho muttered and Changbin nodded. “By the way, why do  _ you _ have an odd eye?” 

Changbin scoffed and Minho swore the boy looked proud. “I look good, don’t I?” When Changbin held his own black masquerade mask to his face, the red contact stood out more than it did without the mask, and without having to think much about it, Minho had a feeling that he would be the same with his eye. 

“It’s because it’ll look like a fashion statement if two of you had the same anomaly,” Chan spoke up from where he stood off to the side. “If only Minho had an odd eye then it’ll draw more attention to him.” 

“How long were you here?” Changbin yelped before placing a hand over his heart as if he could physically slow the beating. 

Chan shrugged and tried to hide his amused smile but he wasn’t very successful. “Long enough. Are you both ready? It’s time to go.”

The small smile adorning Minho’s lips slipped off his face when he remembered what they were going to do. He straightened his back and through his peripheral vision, he saw Changbin do the same. 

Chan led them outside where everyone else was waiting and Minho nearly laughed at how odd they looked. Four of them were dressed to the nines whereas the rest were in attire ranging from pajamas to old sweats. 

Emily eyed the four of them as they gathered one last time before they headed out. “You look good, Jisungie-Oppa, you too Hyunjinnie-Oppa.” 

Jisung and Hyunjin’s face lit up like a Christmas tree and Minho could’ve sworn that Hyunjin started to tear up. 

“What about me?” Changbin asked while pouting his lips and poking his cheek. Emily, who was being crushed in a Jisung-bear hug, gave Changbin a deadpan stare before she turned to face Minho. 

Emily’s face scrunched as if it physically pained her to look at them. “You look alright, I guess.” She said to Minho and completely ignored Changbin. 

A small piece of Minho’s heart broke. 

“I’m going to miss you the most,” Jisung pretended to whisper which sent Emily into a fit of giggles. 

Changbin met Minho’s gaze and for the first time since Minho met Changbin, they came to a mutual understanding without having to say anything. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“This is the place,” Jisung muttered as he gestured to the speakeasy across the street. 

Minho shot Hyunjin a glance but the younger’s face was a stone facade of nonchalance. The rest of them didn’t say anything else before they donned their masquerade masks and crossed the street. The air around them thickened and filled with a sense of sophistication and maturity. 

The outside of the speakeasy seemed innocent enough; large bay windows framed the central door and were filled with books of different genres. A wooden sign rested above the door, identifying the speakeasy as Wolfgang’s Bookstore. 

“Who’s Wolfgang?” Changbin muttered as Jisung pulled the door open. 

“Shut up,” Minho said under his breath. 

They were greeted by a cold gust of wind when they entered followed by a piercing gaze. The person standing behind the wooden counter didn’t say anything but only nodded when Jisung met their gaze. 

Silently, Jisung went to the far corner of the speakeasy before he pulled down one of the wall sconces. With a shudder and a puff of dust, the wall beside them started to move. 

“How come you didn’t say anything to the guy in the store?” Minho asked as they descended the winding spiral staircase. 

Jisung tapped the brooch on his suit. “I’m an honorary member,” he said with a slight frown. 

Once they reached the bottom of the staircase, they were greeted by another person in front of a mahogany door, but this time they wore a mask that covered their whole face. The midnight black mask tapered at the nose to resemble the beak of a bird and they wore a simple white button-up and a black leather vest. A small lightbulb flickered above the stranger and illuminated them in an eerie glow. 

Wordlessly, Jisung pulled the tickets out of his suit jacket and handed it to the stranger. They took the tickets with a gloved hand and examined the tickets briefly. Eyeing the brooch on Jisung’s chest once, the stranger moved to open the door slightly, waiting for them to approach. 

Minho heard Jisung take a brief breath before he approached the door and the stranger swung the door open completely. 

Minho nearly choked on his breath as they were greeted with the complete view of the speakeasy. The crude lighting made it difficult to see and the strong scent of drugs gave Minho a headache. Other masked figures with lavish clothing scattered around the area before them but most stood next to a guardrail overlooking something below. 

The three of them exchanged a glance as Jisung broke from the group and approached the railing himself, the rest of them following him tentatively. 

When they reached the railing, Minho was hit with an overwhelming feeling of disgust and hatred. He could feel Hyunjin tremble from beside him as they glanced down to what would best be accurately described as a zoo enclosure. 

“What is this?” Changbin muttered to no one in particular. 

“This is how they display their merchandise,” Jisung mumbled back. 

Minho curled his hands into fists and used his nails to dig into his palms to ground him to reality but it wasn’t enough to chase away the awful memories. 

Like animals in a cage, people of all races and genders were placed in sectioned areas. Some were unconscious, others looked drugged out of their minds, and some looked close to death, but it was undeniable that they all were beautiful. 

“There’s like 20 of them,” Changbin said, disbelief colored his words. “I knew it was bad but fuck, nothing could prepare me for this.” 

“There,” Hyunjin exhaled shakily. 

Minho followed Hyunjin’s line of sight and immediately found what he was looking at. Minho couldn’t help the feeling of intense relief when his eyes landed on Felix’s gentle features. It was almost comical at how calmly the younger was sleeping in his cage whereas those around him were wailing or begging to be released. 

“C8,” Jisung said with a slight nod, taking note of the order. “He’s going to be one of the last to be auctioned off so we have some time to kill.” 

“Fuck!” Hyunjin suddenly said, attracting the attention of those near them. 

Surprise overtook Minho and made him momentarily forget his own anger when he saw the pain and fury pinched across Hyunjin’s face. Even if Minho would only see Hyunjin’s striking silver eyes and his full lips from behind his mask, there was no mistaking how Hyunjin felt. “Hyunj-“ Minho tried to reach out to the younger but before he could finish or place a comforting hand on his shoulder, Hyunjin turned and stormed off. 

“Damn it, where is he going?” Minho hissed to himself and prepared to follow the younger but a hand around his arm stopped him. Whipping around, Minho was greeted with fierce emerald eyes and the comforting scent of spring oranges and fresh mint.

“I’ll go after him, you need to calm down too.” 

Stunned, Minho could only watch as Jisung left without another word. 

“What’s his problem?” Changbin muttered as he crossed his arms over his chest. 

“Shut the fuck up, Changbin,” Minho grumbled before he spun around and promptly left a stunned Changbin behind. 

Minho's mind was clouded in anger toward himself. He was furious that he didn't prevent this from happening to Felix and he was pissed off that he couldn't calm Hyunjin down. It was a painful reminder to Minho that he wasn't as strong as he wanted and needed to be.

Minho wandered the large room and crossed several thresholds. The crude lighting was enough the make his shadow dance along the wooden floor and Minho watched how it warped over the wall and ground whenever he moved. Eventually, despite how he wasn’t sure where he was going, his anger subsided and all that was left was concern. Concern for Hyunjin and for Felix. 

After what seemed like ages of mindless walking, Minho stopped and realized that he had taken himself to the bar. There were multiple scattered about, but this particular bar was in a secluded area, tucked neatly into a corner. Two masked strangers sat at the opposite end of the bar from where Minho stood, but because the bar wasn’t very large to begin with, the two strangers stopped their conversation and a hushed silence washed over them when they noticed Minho. The only sound came from the bartender with rich auburn hair and black sclera eyes. 

Opting to ignore the two unknowns, Minho sat at the bar as the bartender made his way over. 

“Something strong,” was all Minho said but it seemed to get the message across when the bartender nodded once then reached for something in a skull glass behind him. If it’s in a skull then it has to be strong. 

The two strangers began to whisper amongst themselves in a quiet tone while periodically glancing at Minho. Minho continued to pay them no mind and instead chose to sip his alcoholic beverage tentatively. 

“Oi.”

With a quiet sigh, Minho tilted his head to glance warily at the stranger who called to him but as he did so, a wide grin slowly began to stretch across the face of one of the strangers. “Yes?”

Minho couldn’t help but notice how they looked like an item, like a buy one get one free deal. Their suits were clearly meant to be worn by a pair. The all-white ensemble next to an all-black suit made them stand out with how they juxtaposed so clearly against one and another. Their masks, one white and one black, were worn by the opposite. 

“Do I know you?” The stranger in the black suit and white mask said as his friend continued to grin almost giddily. The black suit stranger’s red hair reminded Minho of a flame.

Minho didn’t bother to hide his scoff. “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you that?” Even as Minho said that, something in the back of his mind itched as if he  _ should  _ know who they were. 

“Don’t you know who we are? We-“ 

“Shut up, Innie! We don’t know for sure if that’s Minho!”

“What do you mean, Minnie-Hyung?” The one in the white suit scoffed and ran a hand through his sand-colored hair. “That’s clearly  _ him. _ ”

Minho’s mind was spinning at a hundred miles per hour as he tried to wrack his brain as to why these two people were so familiar. 

“Wait, you know my name?” Minho’s stomach churned. Was it that easy to identify who he was?

“I told you it’s him!” The stranger in white said as the other glanced warily between Minho and his friend. 

Then suddenly it clicked in his mind and Minho wanted to fight every God in the universe for pulling this stunt. 

Minho stood abruptly and knocked his drink over. It earned him a scowl from the bartender but Minho paid him no mind. “Why the  _ hell _ are you both here?!” Minho nearly growled as he marched the short distance across. 

“I told you we shouldn’t expose ourselves,” the black suit mumbled. 

“Seungmin, Jeongin, explain  _ now _ .” 

Seungmin sighed as he adjusted his white mask and gave Jeongin a pointed glare but the younger only shrugged, still grinning. 

“Well, why are you here, Hyung?” Seungmin asked with a small smug grin. 

Minho wanted to slap the grin off his face. “Seungmin, I have very little patience right now so unless you want me to get angry, I highly suggest that you spill and now.” 

Seungmin’s face immediately became solemn as he shared a look with Jeongin, whose cheery disposition quickly turned to match Seungmin’s. 

Lowering his voice to a mere whisper despite the fact that it was clearly only them, Seungmin leaned closer to Minho before he began to speak. “Jinyoung wanted us to kill the owner of this establishment. Exterminate the rats, that kind of thing.” 

“Right,” Minho leaned against the bar, his arms crossed. “ And who’s the rat?” 

“Well, isn’t everyone here technically a rat?” Seungmin laughed humorlessly and Minho responded with a dry chuckle of his own and a slight nod. 

“You’re right but who’s the rat you have to exterminate?” 

“Isn’t it obvious?” Jeongin spoke up, his smile dropped from his face as something heavy leaked into his voice. “ the same breed you were supposed to eradicate last time.” 

Minho felt his body freeze over. 

“It’s crazy,” Seungmin continued, not noticing how Minho had gone quiet. “Jinyoung really wants him dead and I don’t blame him either. I mean he managed to get you, Hyunjin, and Felix, and you three were top of our company.” 

“So, that’s it?” Minho moved his gaze from Seungmin’s now confused expression to Jeongin who seemed to refuse to look Minho in the eyes. 

“What? What do you mean?” 

“You’re just gonna kill him?”

“I mean, yeah.” Seungmin scoffed playfully but Minho could hear how his voice wavered. “What, you have a problem with it?” 

“Yeah, I do actually.” Minho pushed himself away from the bar and stepped into Seungmin’s personal space. “You’re wrong about who he is.” 

“Am I?” Seungmin paused before he suddenly burst into laughter. “What’s gotten into you? You go disappear for months and now you’re a saint? Did you not hear what I said before? He ruined you and Hyunjin and Felix.”

“Seungminnie Hyung,” Jeongin spoke up, voice tentative. “He’s also the one who funds the schooling for the orphanages and makes sure that the hospitals have the proper equipment and much more.” 

“I’m sure it’s all just an act,” Seungmin didn’t sound so sure. “He has to maintain his image somehow. I mean, that’s what Jinyoung said too.” 

Minho squinted his eyes as he scrutinized Seungmin. “Jinyoung really wants him dead, doesn’t he.”

Seungmin shrugged. “Yeah, I guess”

“You do know that Jisung saved both me and Jeongin, right?” 

Seungmin opened his mouth before closing it and reopening it. 

“And he’s about to save Felix.” 

“WHAT?”

“Doesn’t he own this place?” Jeongin asked, head skewed and lips downturned. 

Minho shook his head. “No, his father does.” Straightening, Minho adjusted the sleeves of his suit before gesturing to leave with his head. “Let’s go, I have a lot to explain to the both of you.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


To say that Hyunjin, Seungmin, and Jeongin had a happy reunion would be an understatement. 

The moment the three of them had joined the rest in the box seat, which admittedly was a bit too small for the six of them, Hyunjin had identified both Seungmin and Jeongin almost immediately. After nearly squeezing the life out of Jeongin and nearly knocking Changbin off the balcony, Hyunjin had proceeded to shower Seungmin in kisses all over the younger’s rapidly reddening face. 

“Who are these two?” Jisung asked Minho. 

Minho shrugged sheepishly. “Some friends. Worked at the same place.”

Jisung ah-ed while Changbin sent them a glare. “Damn, how many friends do you have?”

“More than your antisocial ass,” Minho snapped back. 

“Okay, no fighting, or I’ll toss both of you over the rail.” Jisung sent them a pointed glare before he introduced himself to Seungmin and Jeongin, Changbin followed shortly after. 

“Nice to meet you, Seungmin, and nice to see you again, Jeongin!” Jisung chirped and gave both of them a bright smile. 

“Nice to see you again, too!” Jeongin smiled at Jisung, which only served to make Changbin confused. 

“You two know each other?” Changbin asked tentatively while he gestured to both of them. 

Jisung nodded, a sheepish smile stretched across his face. “He’s that one kid the guards found on the grounds, remember? You were so nice for telling the guards to stop treating him so poorly and you-“

“Okay, okay, I remember!” Changbin shoved a hand over Jisung’s mouth. “Don’t tell them that or else they won’t find me intimidating!” 

“They’re both taller than you, you’re not as intimidating as you may think,” Minho said, not bothering to lower his voice. 

Changbin glared daggers at Minho. 

“I mean, you are like a teddy bear,” Jisung said after he managed to rip Changbin’s hand away from his face. 

“Say that one more time and this  _ teddy bear _ will be the one to toss you over the rails himself.”

“Right, my bad.” Jisung rolled his eyes but didn’t look anywhere close to apologetic. 

Before Changbin could bite back, however, the lights suddenly dimmed and a statick-filled voice boomed overhead. 

“Welcome patrons,” the voice said, “allow us to begin the auction.”

Anger warmed Minho’s body as the voice forced him to remember the reason they were here today. Minho swallowed back his anger as Jisung moved to sit on the plush couch. There was only enough space for two people, so Jisung and Hyunjin sat as the rest stood behind them. 

After a moment, curtains began to move to reveal a hidden stage and a masked figure. He wore a similar mask as the person that greeted them at the entrance and held a microphone in a gloved hand. With a flourish from the auctioneer, the first lot was herded onto the stage. 

“Feast your eyes on our first merchandise!” The auctioneer said and an awed hush filled the room. “He is only 18 years of age-“ 

The auctioneer began to describe the characteristics of the boy as if he was a house being sold. The people behind the auction must have done something to the boy because he couldn’t even stand on his own. Another person had to hold the boy by his neck in order for the bidders to see him clearly. 

Hyunjin’s grip on the seat was tight enough to turn his knuckles white. 

“Fuck,” Hyunjin hissed under his breath and Minho could make out his shaky inhale. 

“What’s wrong with you?” Changbin muttered as the first bidder spoke up. 

Jisung shot Changbin a warning look before he turned to Hyunjin. “You alright?”

“Yeah,” Hyunjin waved a hand as if to dispel Jisung’s concern. “It’s just- I’m getting some deja vu right now.”

At this, everyone except Minho twisted to give Hyunjin a look infused with both concern and confusion. A brief second passed before Jisung turned to give Minho his own personal look. 

Minho shrugged as if to say “not my secret to spill” and Jisung returned his gaze to Hyunjin. 

“Do you want to share?” Seungmin spoke tentatively as Minho watched to see what the younger would do. 

Hyunjin seemed to think carefully about the offer as Minho replayed the story of how Hyunjin was bought by Mama at an auction years ago. As if Hyunjin had told him the story yesterday, Minho could recall every detail clearly. 

It felt as if a century had passed before Hyunjin nodded. “I was around 14 years old when I was snatched off the streets of my hometown. I can’t recall how it happened but I woke up in a strange location. I was chained to a pole as people stalked around me, twisting and tilting my head around, a sickening smile plastered to their faces. I can still feel their predatory gazes on my face as they evaluated me and tried to buy me.”

A shiver ran down Minho’s back and Jisung’s hand on his thigh clenched tightly. 

“Sold for 2,000!”

“And when that woman- when  _ she _ bought me,” Hyunjin laughed drily before he suddenly kicked the rail in front of him, startling Jeongin. “I swore to myself that if I ever got out of that wretched whore house, I’d never step another foot into an auction. Yet here I am. The world works in a funny way.” 

“And here is our next lovely lot! She is 13 years of age and-“

“You didn’t have to come,” Changbin spoke first, no malice or bite to his words. 

Hyunjin shook his head. “I had to. For Felix, I had to.”

Minho placed what he hoped was a comforting hand onto Hyunjin’s shoulder and could feel how the younger shook. Hyunjin didn’t shrug off his hand so the touch must have been somewhat helpful. 

They sat in silence for the rest of the auction and anxiously waited for the right lot to be placed upon the stage. Jisung’s eyes remained glued to the stage, hardly blinking when the gravel rang throughout the air once a lot had been sold. Jisung didn’t even flinch when the person they had been waiting for stumbled onto the stage. 

Hyunjin sucked in a shuddering breath, Jeongin gasped, Seungmin swore, Changbin gritted his teeth. Minho promised death upon anyone who would dare to lay another hand on the angel before them. 

“Now this is a special creature,” the auctioneer said with a grin worthy for the devil himself. “This boy here is 19 years of age and is one of the last angels on this planet.” The air around them seemed to still as the auctioneer piqued the interest of the bidders. 

Felix’s legs trembled as he stood on the stage, head cast downwards and hair covered his eyes. Sturdy iron handcuffs wrapped around Felix’s wrists and judging by how red his skin was, they were not comfortable. 

“Although this boy has no wings, his beauty speaks for itself,” The auctioneer said as he suddenly grabbed the back of Felix’s head and forcefully tilted his head. A few of the bidders gasped as Felix flinched from the bright lights. 

“I swear to whatever deity is listening that I will personally rip his hands off his body,” Minho grumbled to himself as he glared at the auctioneer. 

“Gold shimmers under his skin and there is a very promising rumor of the tremendous power this creature holds,” the auctioneer flashed a bright smile. “But do not worry, with these cuffs, he will never hurt you. Now for the bids, the starting price is 200 thousand!”

“Damn,” Seungmin swore, “the others barely reached 100 thousand yet they’re starting at twice that?”

Minho shot Jisung a worried glance but the younger didn’t remove his eyes from the stage. The only sign that Jisung was still alive and didn’t somehow turn into a marble statue was the slight frown that tugged at the corner of his lips. 

“250 thousand!”

“300 thousand!”

“500 thousand,” Jisung said suddenly, startling Hyunjin when he raised his paddle. 

A hush fell over the crowd before quiet whispering bounced through the air. 

“Ah, Peter is back. Good luck to whoever wants the angel.” A person from their left mumbled. 

“Fuck it’s him,” someone else groaned. “There goes my chances.”

“Going once,” the auctioneer began, raising his gravel. 

“700 thousand,” someone new spoke up, causing everyone to gasp. 

To the right of them, a man stood tall and gave Jisung a sardonic smile. Jisung turned to match the man’s gaze, his grip on the seat tightened until his knuckles turned white. 

“J-Jisung,” Changbin began but Jisung didn’t give him time to finish his sentence.

“900 thousand.” 

“No way,” someone said. “He’s crazy.”

“The other man can’t possibly match that.”

The man paused before his grin stretched impossibly wide. Felix glanced warily between the man and Jisung, most likely unable to make out who they were from the stage. The auctioneer, however, looked absolutely baffled yet undeniably ecstatic, a drastic difference compared to Felix’s pale face. 

“One million.” 

The air around them was impossibly tense as Jisung and the man glared at each other. Minho wasn’t sure if he was breathing, too scared to even inhale in fear that he would ruin everything. 

After what seemed like forever, the auctioneer began to raise his gravel once more. “Going once, twice-“

Then Jisung began to laugh. 

It started small, barely noticeable by anyone before Jisung erupted into a fit of laughter. He clutched his side as if the auctioneer had told the joke of the century. 

Minho could only stare wide-eyed at the giggling mess that was Jisung while everyone else in the room shared confused glances. Jisung’s boisterous laughter echoed off the walls and filled the room as he hunched over as if he could physically hold his laughter in. 

The other bidder gave Jisung a dirty glare while a confused smile stretched across the auctioneer’s face. 

“What’s so funny, Peter?” The auctioneer asked Jisung. 

Jisung choked back his laughter before he slouched against the seat. He threw his arm over the armrest half-hazardously and tossed his paddle to the floor, the cardboard crunched sign under his heel. His hair, once styled to perfection, now layered over his forehead wildly and his suit was crinkled from when he hunched over himself. This image of Jisung made Minho’s mind spin from how difficult it was to process the quick change. It was as if Jisung was a different man. 

Something dangerous glinted in Jisung’s eyes before a smile stretched across his lips when he met the gaze of the other bidder. A smile that Minho could only describe as psychopathic. 

Standing, Jisung smoothed out his suit before he approached the rail. He reached into his suit jacket as he swallowed more laughter. 

“Three million.” 

With a dramatic flourish, Jisung flung what appeared to be paper money over the rail, causing it to rain hundreds as if it was nothing for Jisung. 

The auctioneer slammed the gravel down and practically screamed “sold” as confused yelling nearly swallowed the auctioneer’s voice. 

Jisung gave the other bidder a wide grin and flashed him his middle finger before the man turned and promptly left with a scowl. When Jisung turned back around to meet their baffled expressions, he gave them all a sheepish shrug. 

“I did what I had to do.”

Minho has never had the overwhelming urge to kiss someone as badly as he did now. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Nerves thrummed through Minho’s body as they made their way to the back of the establishment. It was tucked away in the furthest corner but for someone like Jisung who was considered a regular, it wasn't difficult to locate it. 

Jisung’s stunt from earlier was all everyone whispered about as they made their way to the room but Minho didn’t pay them any mind. The whispering was merely background noise to the blood thumping throughout his body. His heart beat rapidly and his hands trembled. He wasn’t sure if he was anxiously waiting to get Felix back or if his gut was telling him that there was another danger he should be worried about. 

Jisung approached a modest door but paused as his hands wrapped around the doorknob. He turned and eyed the five of them before he seemed to come to a conclusion. 

“Some of us should wait out here,” Jisung said. 

“Seungmin Hyung and I will wait,” Jeongin spoke up first. Seungmin looked like he was about to protest but with a not-so-subtle nudge from Jeongin, Seungmin didn’t say anything. 

“At least one more should stay here,” Jisung said as he eyed the rest of them. He paused when his eyes found Minho’s and a mutual look of understanding flashed across his face before he turned to Changbin. “Hyung, wait out here.”

“But-“

“We’ll be okay. Don’t worry, Hyung.” 

Changbin’s face soured. 

With a defeated sigh, Changbin nodded and Jisung gave the older a thankful smile. But just as quickly as it appeared, Jisung’s smile slipped from his face without another moment to waste. 

“Let’s go.”

Jisung opened the door and together with Hyunjin, Minho walked past and into the small hallway. There were only two visible doors from where they were, one to the right and one to the left. The hallway continued for a bit before it turned to the right. Minho could make out conversations from the door to the left but nothing else from the other. The air, thick with mildew and smoke, coated the back of his throat with dread. 

Jisung brushed past Minho and Hyunjin and started to make his way down the hallway, head straight and mouth downturned. Hyunjin gave Minho a complicated look before he trailed after Jisung. 

Minho’s heart had yet to calm down, in fact, it seemed like it was drum based on how loud and fast it was beating. Minho was surprised that no one had yet to tell his frantic heart to shut the fuck up. 

They approached the turn at the end of the hallway at a nearly tantalizing pace. Minho knew and was aware that they were walking at a normal pace, and they might’ve been walking a bit faster than normal, but to him, he wanted nothing more than to run to the other end of the hallway. 

But even if his impatience was taking a strong grasp on him, something else still pricked at the back of his head as if warning him about the room before them. 

They passed the first door, the door on the left, and Minho stopped in his tracks. 

As if he was a mere magnet, something had forced Minho’s legs to stop and attracted his attention. His fingers tingled and he couldn’t feel his toes. He wasn’t sure if he was breathing. 

Jisung and Hyunjin didn’t notice that he wasn’t walking with them and at this, Minho was secretly glad. Something past this door triggered every alarm bell in Minho’s head and Minho would never be at peace if he didn’t check. And without a doubt, Jisung and Hyunjin would never let him look. 

Minho watched the two turn the corner and disappear as the other people behind the door laughed rambunctiously. Minho could make out the faint smell of weed and alcohol. 

Taking a deep breath in and with an excuse perched on the tip of his tongue, Minho opened the door. 

The sight before Minho made him pause in his track as anger suddenly flared throughout his body. 

Anger scorched through his veins like oxygen as he stood with his hand still on the door handle and with his mouth slightly agape. Their predatory eyes landed on him and Minho felt like meat at a butcher store. 

His hold tightened on the doorknob and if the sudden jump from the people in the room was any indicator, he might’ve broken it. 

“Who the fuck are you?” The person who Minho was glaring at spoke up first.

The overwhelming urge to laugh clutched at Minho's throat until he couldn't hold it back. His laughter, loud and filled with disbelief, was tinged with a bit of pain as he struggled to accept his own misfortune and how ridiculous the situation was. 

The other patrons shared confused glances, which quickly turned to alarm when Minho stepped further into the room. 

“I asked you a question, boy!” She said. Her ignorance nearly made Minho laugh again. 

It was as if nothing had changed despite how years had passed. Minho identified her easily. Her red lipstick and red, skin-tight dress. Her round body and black, soulless eyes. 

Nothing had changed. Even the hookah inches away from her lips. 

“Answer the question!” A man spoke up but as he did so, smoke left his chapped lips and nearly made Minho choke. 

Minho was not a patient man. 

“Ah, right.” Minho nodded to himself. Turning to face the man, Minho sized him up and couldn’t hold back the smirk when the man was clearly uncomfortable. How ironic. A man who bids for the chance to own a person was uncomfortable with being treated like an object himself. 

“What the fuck are you looking at?” The man scoffed. He was quite ugly, his outside appearance matching his personality, and Minho felt bad for his mother for birthing such a disgusting piece of shit. “Know your place.”

“I’m fully aware of my place, sir,” Minho said as he crossed the small space between them and snatched his hookah away from him. 

The man’s startled expression was nothing to the surprise and terror on his ugly face when Minho smashed the base of the hookah against the table, causing shards of glass to fly across the room. Minho weighed the smashed hookah in his hand before he pointed the shattered end at the man before him. 

“But I don’t think you know yours,” Minho said to the man who was now shaking and pale. Giving the man one last glare, Minho turned to face the others. “Anyone else have anything to say?”

When no one said anything, Minho tossed the hookah to the side and dusted the shards of glass off of his suit. 

“Wh-what do you want?” Mama spoke up after the terrified woman next to her nudged her side. “Do you want money? We have money.”

Minho laughed at the superficial offer before he rolled out his shoulders and turned to look at Mama. “You don’t recognize me?” Minho scoffed. With rage fueling his steps, he began to walk and didn’t stop until he was only a few feet away. Minho bent at the waist and gave her a sardonic smile. “What about now?” He asked before he untied his mask and tossed it over his shoulder. 

Blood drained from her face at a remarkable pace. Her hands trembled around her hookah and she struggled to return the mouthpiece to its holder on the stem. 

“Y-you,” Mama said with a shaky laugh, “M-Minho, right?” 

Minho nodded and his smile widened. 

“What- what are you doing here?” 

“That,” Minho began as he straightened, “is none of your goddamn business.” 

Minho had only seen greed and excitement dance in her disgusting irises before, but now, fear quivered in her pupils. 

And Minho reveled in it. 

“O-okay.” She swallowed. “How have you been?”

“Oh, wouldn’t you like to know?” Minho sighed. “You know, there’s actually something that’s actually been bothering me.”

“And what would that be? I- I have people that can help you take care of it.”

Minho shook his head and straightened. “It’s a promise I made and I hate breaking promises.”

Mama visibly relaxed. “What’s your promise?”

“I made a promise, to myself, that if I  _ ever _ saw your disgusting, disgusting face ever again, I’ll kill you.” 

Mama wasn’t looking very relaxed now. 

“What?”

Before anyone could move, Minho latched out and wrapped his hand around her thick neck, slamming her to the wall behind her and squeezed. 

The woman beside Mama screamed, a man yelled, another gasped. 

Minho smiled. 

“Wait!” Mama pleaded as she desperately tried to claw out of Minho’s grasp. “Please no-“

Before Mama could utter another word, Minho tugged her forward and slammed her face into the table. The hookahs clattered off the wooden surface and a loud crack rang throughout the room, signifying that Mama’s nose was broken. 

Minho pulled her head off the table, blood dripped from her face, and ignored the fearful eyes on him. “What was that? I didn’t hear you right.”

Mama slowly raised her eyes before something akin to hope flickered across her face. “Peter! Peter thank God you’re here. Get this lunatic off me!”

Before Minho could even raise his head, an arm yanked him away and caused Minho to lose his grip on Mama. The lady fell face-first onto the table. 

“Jis-“ Before Minho could finish, Jisung’s hand was on his mouth with a painful grip.

“Ah, Marcel,” Jisung began with a pinched look on his face, “you look different.”

“Peter,” Mama, or rather Marcel, scrambled to her feet. “Look what this bastard did to me!” 

“Well, maybe if you weren’t such a bitch then maybe this wouldn’t have happened,” Jisung said nonchalantly while he tugged Minho forcefully out the door. 

“He broke my nose!”

“You look better with a broken nose,” Jisung mumbled before he gave Minho one last shove out the door and slammed it shut behind him. 

“Jisung,” Minho hissed, newly fueled anger heated his face. “What the hell are you doing?”

Jisung scoffed before he began to walk down the hallway and away from the door they came from, his steps heavy and his grip viselike. 

“That- that bitch, don’t you know who she is?”

They turned around the corner and although there was only one door in this hallway and nowhere else to go, Jisung kept walking. 

“Yeah, I know who the fuck she is.” Jisung didn’t stop until he approached the window at the end and let go of Minho with a shove. He unlatched the window before he promptly swung it outwards. “And out you fucking go.”

With a not-so-gentle shove from Jisung, Minho tumbled onto the fire exit walkway. Brick walls from the building they just came from and from the one next to them overshadowed the sun and cast them into darkness. A cold breeze rustled their disgruntled suits but nothing was chillier than the glare Jisung threw at Minho. 

Instead of making Minho scared, considering Minho had never seen Jisung so angry, the anger from before flickered alive. 

“Why are you mad at me?” Minho retorted as Jisung marched his way down the metal staircase. 

“Why am I mad at you?” Jisung scoffed before he whirled around and Minho found himself face to face with Jisung. He nearly ran into the younger when Jisung suddenly stopped to poke Minho with a finger. “You nearly killed a prominent member. Her face is well known, do you know how bad it would’ve been if you killed her?”

And with that, Jisung whipped around and continued to storm down the stairwell, Minho quickly followed after. 

“Bad?” It was Minho’s turn to scoff. “In what way would it be bad if I prevented numerous children from being treated like sex dolls if I killed her. I could’ve prevented them from meeting the same fate I did.”

When Jisung reached the bottom of the staircase, he rounded onto Minho, caught the older by surprise, and leaned close enough that their noses nearly brushed. “Yes, perhaps you would’ve but you also would’ve put a huge fucking target on our backs and our plan would go to shit!”

“Is that all you care about, Jisung?” Minho’s heat-filled anger simmered under his skin but Minho felt cold and nearly disgusted. “Do you want the throne that badly?”

“What? No, no, this has nothing to do with the throne.” Jisung huffed frustratedly. “That was irresponsible of you to act like that. Her friends would have sent people after us and we already have the royal family on our asses, we don’t need assassins too.”

Minho’s nostrils flared and he spoke through clenched teeth. “People already want me dead, what’s a few more?” 

“It’s more danger to look out for!” 

“And?” Minho retorted. “I had to look out for danger all my life. There was never an instance where I didn’t have to!”  _ Except when I was with you- _ “This is my life, I can make my own choices and I don’t need you to tell me what I can or cannot do.” 

Minho knew that he was overreacting but his mind was running at a million miles per hour and he couldn’t think straight. He was starting to panic and speak without a filter. All his life Minho had to be careful, he had to do as he was told, he was never allowed to live his own life, and now Jisung was trying to take away what little freedom he had.

“Minho, I-“ Jisung’s eyes searched through Minho’s and Minho didn’t shy away. Jisung probably didn’t like what he found because his face crumbled. “I’m not saying that you can’t make your own decisions, I’m just saying that there are consequences-“

“No, no, I get it.” Minho squeezed his way out from where he was trapped between the wall and Jisung. “Using me in order for you to accomplish your goals, I get it.” 

There was a pause as Jisung processed what Minho had said, but to Minho, everything was suddenly clear. 

Minho chastised himself,  _ I’m such a fucking fool _ . 

“What in the world are you talking about?” Jisung hissed from behind Minho. “Minho, can you at least look me in the eyes if you’re going to be sprouting bullshit?” 

Minho took a sharp inhale of air and ignored how it hurt to even breathe. Who knew betrayal stung this badly?

“You know, I thought you were different from everyone else.” Minho scoffed before he turned around slowly. “But clearly I was wrong.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Jisung's hands floundered as his eyes widened in disbelief. "All I'm trying to say is that  you can't kill her because it'll complicate things immensely plus fulfilling the prophecy will be better in the long run since we could put a permanent stop to shit that she and others do." 

“Of course you don't want any complications.” Someone must've stolen Minho's heart and replaced it with a stone replica because the organ suddenly felt much too heavy to fit in his chest. "Because it would prevent you from accomplishing what you wanted all along."

“What?” Jisung sputtered. “Where did this come from?” 

Minho shook his head slowly and crossed his arms over his chest as if he could physically stop himself from hurting. “It makes sense. That was your goal from the beginning. You wanted me to do your dirty work so that your hands remain clean.” Minho laughed because if he didn’t, he might cry. “You’re using me so your father isn’t in the picture anymore and you can become king. That's all this"- he waved a hand between them- ”is originally for."

Everything they've been through together, felt together, dealt with together, was just a way for Jisung to make sure that Minho stayed long enough for Jisung to use to accomplish his goals. 

“Look, it may have originally seemed like that at first but it’s not like that anymore. If I caused you any pain, I’m sorry, but I’m not using you.” Jisung actually looked like he was in pain with how his eyebrows pinched together and how his beautiful eyes glossed over from unshed tears. But Minho wasn’t a fool anymore, he knew the truth now. “Anyone could have tried to kill him and I would’ve helped them anyway."

“I didn’t want to be involved until you roped me in. How is that not using me?” Minho scoffed and Jisung groaned. “You practically forced me into this.”

“You were going to do it anyway! The descendant of Eunbyeol and all of that. I’m just tagging along because our goals happened to be the same.” 

“No,” Minho wanted to laugh again. How could he be so blind? The ending was always the same. “Anyone could've fulfilled that stupid prophecy but you picked me." Jisung opened his mouth to retort but Minho didn't give him the chance to. " You’re the same as everyone else, you’re the same as Marcel!” 

“Don’t fucking compare me to her,” Jisung seethed, “How the hell am I like her?” 

“She wanted to make money by selling me, you want me to kill your father so you get the throne. Both of you are trying to get me to do your dirty work by making it seem like I have no other choice or that this is my destiny all along. When will I get to decide what I want to do with my life?” Minho wasn’t sure when he had begun to approach Jisung, but after he finished his tangent, he was nose to nose with the young prince, glaring into his emerald eyes. 

They stared at each other, both breathing harshly. Minho tried to look for any sign of remorse, any hint that it wasn’t true, but Minho couldn’t see clearly when his eyes started to water and his nose began to prickle. Before Minho could embarrass himself by revealing just how badly Jisung had hurt him, he turned away, scoffing under his breath. 

“If you don’t have anything to say then I’m leaving.” 

“I don’t know why you think I’m the bad guy,” Jisung mumbled as Minho turned to leave. “Especially when I’ve probably saved more people than you have.” 

Minho paused in his tracks and turned around slowly. Jisung glared back with a scowl on his rose-colored lips. 

“Yeah, you probably have.” Minho sneered. “That’s the least you could do when all your life you’ve lived with a golden spoon stuck up your ass. You’ve probably enjoyed luxuries crafted by the labor from the very people you’ve saved. So yeah, saving a few people every now and then from the life of poverty is the least you can do after you’ve leeched and taken advantage of every possible resource there is.” 

Jisung’s eyes were blown wide and his lips trembled. “I- that’s not-“

“Do you get it now when I say that you’re using me?” Minho’s sneer turned melancholy because even if he was upset at the fact that he was just another tool to be used, he wouldn't have thought that Jisung would be one to toss him away. “I’ve been passed around for others’ pleasures until they get bored and dispose of me. I bet that you’ll be the same.” 

Minho took a deep breath before he spun around and left before Jisung could say another word. Instead of the fiery hot anger that scorched through his body a few minutes ago, a heavy weight laid on his chest, and pressure behind his eyes made Minho blink a few times in hopes of preventing the inevitable tears for at least a little while longer. 

It was strange for Minho to be crying over such a convoluted reason. Betrayal was something Minho should be used to but Minho had grown comfortable with the company Jisung had brought and now that Jisung was no longer there, the absence was nearly unbearable. 

Minho internally chastised himself. He shouldn’t have trusted Jisung so easily and shouldn’t have told him about his past because it was clear that Jisung did not care. Opening up and letting people know about his struggles was clearly a weakness and nothing good ever came from exposing himself. 

The setting sun shined in his eyes, but Minho ignored it and instead continued to walk in a random direction. He knew that he was lost and would have trouble heading back but Minho didn’t care. He didn’t want to go back. 

But perhaps if Minho had cared just a little more, he would’ve noticed the person sneaking behind him with a syringe in one hand and a knapsack in the other. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“Jisung, I have a  _ really _ bad feeling about this.”

“I know, Channie Hyung, I know, but there’s not much that we can do.” Jisung wrung his hands together and watched as Chan paced the small kitchen. Granny sat in her usual chair in the living room and Changbin watched both Jisung and Chan from where he was on the sofa. Seungmin and Jeongin were outside with Emily, the young girl had immediately grown attached to them, and kept her busy and away from any “adult talk.”

Jisung had made it back on his own an hour after his argument with Minho but a few hours had passed since then and Minho had not made it back. 

They were growing anxious and it certainly didn’t help since Chan kept mumbling about his extremely terrible and disastrous feeling. Guilt ate away at Jisung and as more time passed, the more Jisung had realized what a fool he had been. 

When Jisung and Hyunjin went to receive Felix, Jisung realized that Minho was nowhere to be seen, but when Jisung had found Minho, who was almost about to murder someone, Jisung had nearly lost it. So many sacrifices were made for him yet Minho was about to let his anger take control over him. But Jisung couldn’t blame him. 

It was clear that Jisung had handled the situation poorly and when he had reiterated the conversation back to everyone else, they each had their turn ridiculing how Jisung had handled it. If Jisung could take it all back, he would in a heartbeat. 

“He’s not back yet?”

Jisung looked up from where he was glaring holes into the floor to see Hyunjin step out of the bedroom with a complicated expression on his face. When his eyes met Jisung's, the elf quickly diverted his attention to the others. 

“Not yet,” Changbin said with a sigh. 

Jisung spoke up quietly after a moment of silence. “How is he?” 

Hyunjin glanced briefly at Jisung before he exhaled through his nose and leaned against the wall. “He’s fine, just really shaken up and tired.” 

Jisung nodded his understanding before he slouched in his chair and ran a tired hand down his face. 

Jisung remembered how he had told the elf to head back first with Felix and the rest of them while he had gone to look for Minho on his own. Seungmin had offered to help and now Jisung couldn’t help but wish he had accepted the help. 

“Jisung,” Chan began after awhile. The tired prince glanced up to see his Hyung look close to crying, “I insist that we-“

Before Chan could finish his sentence, a loud bang interrupted and made them all jump. Spinning around from where he sat, Jisung turned just in time to see a cloaked figure fall out of the closet. 

“Seohyun-Ssi?” Jisung gasped. “What-“

  
Seohyun rose on shaky legs and her familiar green eyes bore into Jisung’s as she took a shuddering breath. Her body was riddled in cuts and bruises. Blood, both old and new, coated her clothing and some even dripped onto the floor. What scared Jisung the most, however, was not how she scrambled to clutch Jisung's shoulders with trembling hands nor the haunting look on her face, but the bone-chilling words she muttered from her pale lips. 

“Minho’s in danger. We need to find him  _ now _ .” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who has left encouraging words. I cannot express the entirety of my gratitude toward everyone who has read my work and enjoyed it. These past few days for everyone have been difficult especially with the political climate in these modern times and the pandemic, but I can only wish that everyone and those dearest to you remain safe. It is not only very important to feel gratitude, but to also express gratitude, so allow me to express mine: thank you. Thank you to everyone here. The journey traveled together through this story is almost at an end, but I hope that you all stay for a little while longer and enjoy every second of it. You are all very sweet and I hope you remain patient with me while I edit the rest of the chapters and work on some new stories. 
> 
> Have a fantastic day and stay safe everyone.
> 
> (Also, bonus points if you know where the outfits are from hehe)


	12. Metanoia

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Metanoia: the journey of changing one's heart, mind, self, or life
> 
> Minho is found in more ways than one.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> /sobs/ i love you all

Minho forced his heavy eyelids open and tried to blink the lethargy away. His limbs left like they were made of lead and too heavy to lift from the cold ground he laid on. 

Looking around his new environment, the first thing Minho realized was that he was in someone’s musty basement. The air was thick with mildew and a strange scent that reminded Minho of cleaning supplies. He faced the staircase that must have led up to the house and was surrounded by shelves filled with bottles of strangely colored liquid and old books. A few crates rested to the right of Minho on the concrete floor, but other than that, there was nothing else. 

Minho groaned as he tried to move but was met with nothing. What had happened? 

His memory was foggy and couldn’t remember what had happened recently. The last memory he had was the auction, then going to get Felix, then seeing Mama, then- oh right. His argument with Jisung. 

A bitter taste was left in his mouth at the thought of Jisung and the rest. Did Jisung care that he had yet to get back? Or was he pretending that he was concerned for the sake of the others? Minho laughed quietly to himself after pondering the answer to his own questions. Of course, he was sad, because if Minho wasn’t there, there wouldn’t be anyone else to do his dirty work. 

Perhaps Hyunjin or Felix would care, Minho suddenly remembered. Those two were smart so they’ll probably realize Jisung’s ulterior motives, right? 

Minho sighed to himself and tried to shake his head to clear his thoughts but was met with no motion at all. Internally cursing, Minho swore to kill whoever had done this to him. 

And as it turned out, Minho didn’t need to wait long before the door in front of him began to rattle, and a familiar face appeared. 

“Oh, lovely, you’re awake!” 

The man before Minho was not very different from the last time he had seen him months ago. His silver hair was still a mess and his eyes held the same wild, caffeine-infused look but now, a bit of desperation clung to his irises. 

“Oh, it’s you!” Minho tried to smile but half of his face was numb, “What was your name again? Park Hoonwong?”

The man stilled in his steps, his greasy smile slipped from his lips. “Ah, you still remember.” 

“Of course I remember,” Minho laughed drily. “We’re friends, right?” 

Hoonwong scoffed. “Sure, whatever you want to believe.” 

“Now, since we’re friends,” Minho watched as the man approached then crouch in front of him with an annoyed look on his face, “tell me why you drugged me then brought me to this disgusting place?” 

Hoonwong sighed then began to poke Minho’s face, “It’s rather simple really.”

“Revenge?” 

“Obviously.” Minho laughed and Hoonwong shot him an irritated glare. “It’s thanks to you that I lost my job at the castle and now no one wants to hire me. If you didn’t escape that one night, I would still have that job! I was a man of power and now I’m nothing and it’s all thanks to you.”

Minho gave the man a sardonic smile. “You’re welcome.” 

“Shut your trap.”

“I’ll just have you know,” Minho began when Hoonwong started to slap his face with just enough force for it to be annoying, “that if my limbs didn’t feel like lead bars, I’d have you bleeding out on your grimy basement floor already.”

“Yup, I don’t doubt it,” Hoonwong said as he produced a syringe from his pocket and Minho gave it a wary glance. 

“What’s that?” 

A pleased smile broke out and stretched across Hoonwong’s face as he reverted his attention back to Minho almost as if he was waiting for Minho to ask the question. “Oh this? It’s just a little thing I’ve been working on specifically for you.”

“Oh lovely,” Minho rolled his eyes. “I’m glad that I get to be your guinea pig. What an honor.” 

Hoonwong nodded his head in agreement as he uncapped the syringe and began to remove the excess air. “Yes, you should be honored. Once I show the castle how this drug has made you insane from your own imagination, they’d hire me once again on the spot!” Hoonwong’s eyes twinkled with passion and Minho wanted to slap the smile off his face. 

“You’re insane.”

“And that’s why I’m so good at my job, that’s why they _need_ me,” Hoonwong said before he angled Minho’s head to the side and plunged the syringe into his neck. 

Minho scrunched his nose in displeasantness when the cold liquid was injected into his body. “I can’t wait to murder you,” Minho spat and Hoonwong smiled once more. 

“If you’re sane enough to do it, I’ll let you.” 

Hoonwong left Minho in the basement to deal with his anxiety alone. Minho, no matter how much he bluffed with his snarky remarks, was scared and he couldn’t hide it from himself like how he did to others. 

His heart hammered in his chest as he waited for the inevitable. He had no clue about what may happen next and Minho still couldn't move, so Minho could only squeeze his eyes shut and try to slow his erratic breathing. 

After what seemed like ages, Minho slowly opened his eyes and kept them to the ground. He had finally managed to get his heart to a normal pace, but the progress was quickly lost when a pair of shoes came into his field of vision. 

“Who-“ Minho began but the words died on his tongue when his odd eyes met emerald. “Jisung?” 

Minho could only stare with his mouth agape as the younger boy stared soullessly at him. There in all of his glory stood Jisung, tall and beautiful- the agglomeration of everything lovely. Minho squeezed his eyes shut and quickly reopened them to double-check if the sight before him was true, and despite how much Minho wished it wasn't, Jisung was still there. The more Minho stared, the more he realized that something was off about Jisung. The person in front of him looked just like the prince except for the void expression on his face. Jisung, even with his rose lips and cute nose, resembled a reanimated corpse. 

Jisung’s eyes, which were Minho’s favorite thing about the boy because of how much passion they carried, seemed to look through him, rather than at him as if Minho wasn’t important enough to receive his full attention. 

“How’d you get in here?” Minho laughed nervously and when Jisung didn’t respond, Minho started to grow anxious once again. “What, are you still mad at me?” 

Jisung squatted so that he was face to face with Minho before his mouth began to move. “I honestly don’t know why you blamed me when it was all your fault in the first place.” 

“What?” 

Jisung’s voice was monotonous as he stared into his eyes like he was looking for his soul to steal. “You knew what I was doing from the beginning so if anything, this was your fault. You let yourself be used by me.” 

Minho’s heart was a wild bird trapped in a cage as he tried to wrap his foggy brain around Jisung’s words. “No, you’re wrong.” 

“Am I?” And for the first time, Jisung laughed but it was as soulless as the rest of him. There was no twinkling in his laughter, no crescent eyes, no wide smile. Just a bland sound that resembled nails on a chalkboard. “You clearly knew, I mean, when you were yelling at me it seemed as if you had already pieced together everything. You were just waiting for a reason to snap at me when it was all your fault in the first place.” 

Minho opened his mouth to retort, even if he was too shell-shocked to think clearly, but Jisung continued. 

“You’re just so easy to use. You are a tool, you’re right about that, but that’s the reason you’re alive. If you aren’t being used then you’d have no worth otherwise. You’re meant to be tossed away once someone doesn’t need you, I mean, that has to be your true destiny. The prophecy is just a glorified excuse for you to be walked over by everyone and everything. It’s hilarious how you want to be free from expectations and fate, yet even the universe is controlling you like a puppet. Your existence is pathetic.” 

The words dripped from his mouth like poison- vile and dangerous- designed specifically to kill Minho in the most painful way. Minho could only stare at Jisung as his body began to tremble and helplessly take all the stabs to the heart. Jisung knew every insecurity and had gone out of his way to pull on those strings just to hurt Minho. 

“I don’t care what you think,” Minho scoffed and tried to hide how badly the words stung. “You’re wrong. I’m the only one who gets to control me.” 

“Lookin' at you trying to fool yourself,” Jisung cooed, “you’re such a fool. Not to mention how you’ve fallen in love with me, I would never love someone as disgusting and broken as you.”

Minho’s eyes widened and his heart ached for an entirely different reason. “I- I don’t know what-“

Before Minho would finish, Jisung reached with a perfect hand for Minho's face. Minho flinched even though he was perfectly aware that this was just a product of the drug Hoonwong injected him with and that this wasn't really Jisung. The hand, however, felt much too real for Minho to truly believe that this was all just a figment of his imagination. It was soft and smooth yet slightly callused in certain areas and it would've completely fooled Minho if it weren't for the fact that it felt just as lifeless as Jisung looked. 

Hollow and empty. Nothing was in Jisung's eyes despite how hard Minho looked. All he could see was his own desperate expression.

Minho took a shaky breath, but he quickly choked on it when suddenly, Jisung’s face began to twist into itself, his features warped and stretched as if made of clay. The grotesque sight startled Minho and without blinking, Minho could only watch as Jisungks face continued to twist until it snapped back into place but this time in the form of Hyunjin. 

“Wha-“ 

From the mole under his eye to his full lips, the person before him was the very same Hyunjin that Minho knew. The way he squatted before Minho and the way his eyes pointed, it was all the same. 

“Hyung,” even his voice sounded like him, but the only difference was how indifferent and bored he looked. “You’re so goddamn needy, did you know that?” 

“Are you sure you’re not talking about yourself?” Minho scoffed but it sounded weak, even to his own ears. 

“You try to act all tough but it's so obvious how dependent you are. It’s pathetic, Hyung. Why can’t you grow up?” Hyunjin shook his head, his black hair shook around him, “its exhausting to cushion my words around you because if I speak what I’m really thinking, I know you’ll overreact then do something irrational.” 

“You know what?” Minho said, bitterness coated his tongue, “this is all fake, just- just a product of that weird drug.” 

But even when Minho said those words, he had trouble believing himself. Was it all fake? Sure, Hyunjin was probably not actually before him and Jisung from earlier was definitely not real, but the things that they were saying, that was true, wasn’t it? 

“Are you calling me a liar, Hyung?” Hyunjin scoffed before he reached out to wrap a slender hand around Minho’s neck. Minho’s eyes fluttered wide as Hyunjin squeezed, his cold hands feeling very real. “Tell me, does this feel fake?” 

Tears pricked Minho’s eyes as Hyunjin’s bore into his. 

Minho's cotton-filled brain was not only the product of his hyperventilation cutting his airflow, it was also due to how overwhelming the situation was. Minho couldn't move- couldn't physically escape the sight before him- and that only forced him to deal with everything thrown at him at once. Clinging onto any sort of way to ground himself, Minho tried his goddamn hardest to believe that his eyes were fooling him and that his ears were liars; nothing was real. But even as Minho drilled those thoughts into his mind, he knew deep down, that he believed every single thing the hallucinations muttered to him. 

Before Minho could say anything, Hyunjin’s face began to twist in a similar way to before until Felix was staring at him instead. 

“I lost my wings because of you,” Felix’s deep voice rang through Minho’s ears and continued to fill his mind with pollution. “It’s. All. Your. Fault.” 

As Felix’s words pierced through Minho’s heart, Felix’s blue eyes began to pale and blend with the sclera and the hand wrapped around Minho’s throat started to warm until it was near scorching. Minho’s arms were still heavy so he could only lay on the cold ground and stare helplessly into Felix’s irsisless eyes. 

Minho screamed. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“What happened to Minho?” Jisung said as he rose from his chair and moved to catch Seohyun before she could fall. “What happened to you?” 

Jisung helped Seohyun into the chair he previously occupied while Chan handed her a glass of water. She drank the water in one gulp before she made eye contact with Jisung. 

“Someone got to him, I don’t know who it is but if we don’t make it in time, Minho might not be sane enough to even live.” Seohyun released a shaky breath while Chan, Changbin, and Jisung exchanged glances. 

“Changbin, get Seungmin and Jeongin.” Jisung nodded to the older boy, who rose from the couch and left promptly. Crouching to be eye level with Seohyun, Jisung held her tired gaze. “Tell me everything you know.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


“How long do we have again?” Changbin asked eyebrows pinched together. 

“Two days.” Seohyun sighed. "However, we should get him back as soon as possible. Two days is the absolute maximum and I'm not completely sure that we'll be able to help him if we take that long."

Jisung swore to himself and ran his hands through his hair. He should've listened to Chan and went looking for Minho sooner. 

“So, we have less than two days to locate and remove Minho from wherever the hell he is.” Changbin nearly growled in frustration. “That’s damn near impossible.” 

“He could be anywhere in Korea,” Chan spoke up next and shot Jisung a wary glance. “It’ll take forever to look for him.” 

Jisung bit his lower lip as he tried to wrack his brain for some sort of solution. “We don’t have any other choice but to look everywhere if we want to find him.” 

“Wait, I have an idea,” Seungmin suddenly said. His eyes were cast downward as he spoke his thoughts. “Jeongin’s really good at tracking people down- hell, that’s what he specialized in the company, so we send Jeongin out and he’ll take care of finding him.” 

Jeongin looked taken aback when their attention fell onto him. 

“Can you do it, Jeongin?” Jisung asked and tried to keep the desperation out of his voice. “We need to find him as soon as possible.” 

Jeongin’s throat moved as he swallowed. “I think I can do it.” 

“He’s probably our best bet.” Jisung turned to see Hyunjin lean against the wall next to Seungmin and watched how Seungmin wrapped an arm around Hyunjin’s shoulders comfortingly. “Jeongin’s excellent at finding people who don’t want to be found.” 

Seungmin nodded his agreement. “I’ve also been working on something,” the younger pulled out what appeared to be an earring cuff out of his pocket. He turned it over in his hand before he tossed it to Jisung. 

“What is this?” Jisung peered at the jewelry with little interest before Changbin suddenly gasped. 

“How did you manage to infuse that much magic into this tiny thing?” Changbin asked as he plucked the jewelry out of Jisung’s hand. 

A small satisfied smile crawled its way onto Seungmin’s face as Changbin and Chan took turns looking at the earring. 

“I’m surprised you were able to detect the magic, Changbin Hyung,” Seungmin said with a light laugh. 

“Well, of course, I would detect it,” Changbin puffed out his chest as Chan handed the earring back to Jisung. “I am one of the most powerful mages in Korea.” 

Seungmin chuckled to himself as if Changbin said something funny but before the older could comment on it, Seungmin began to explain. “It’s a tracking device and it also relays messages. I won’t get into the specifics of how it works, but just know that it’ll help us make sure that we won’t lose Jeongin and Jeongin won’t lose communication with us.”

“Wow,” Jisung found himself saying without thinking, “I didn’t know that was possible.”

“Magic can be used for a multitude of things, you just have to figure out how to do it.” 

“That’s impressive, Seungminnie!” Hyunjin suddenly said loudly, startling Jeongin with his voice. “You’re brilliant!” 

Seungmin’s face quickly began to redden at a remarkable speed as Hyunjin wrapped his arms around the younger. Despite the fact that Seungmin’s protests rang loud and clear throughout the small house, it was obvious to everyone that the boy didn’t hate it as much as he said he did. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The six of them surrounded the device that received Jeongin’s messages like vultures eyeing a discarded slice of bread. The device was a humble metal box with an antenna and if Jisung didn’t know any better, he would have mistaken the box for a radio. 

Jeongin had been out wandering the streets for a few hours now and the tension was palpable in the small kitchen. Felix had just recently joined them and after being informed of the plan, he had been quiet. 

“If only I-“ Felix began with a pout on his lips but before he could finish, the rest of them began to shush the boy. 

“It’s not your fault.”

“Don’t worry about it, Felix.” 

“Minho’s just a dumbass.”

“Yeah, this has nothing to do with you.” 

“We’ll find him in no time.”

Felix’s mouth dropped open and he struggled to look at everyone at once, his eyes darted frantically between the five of them before suddenly his lips began to quiver and his eyes began to water. 

“Wha- Felix, why are you crying?” Seungmin exclaimed when Felix started to sniffle. 

“Why are you all so nice to me?” Felix wailed as the first tear dropped. 

Chan laughed as he moved to give the younger a hug before Hyunjin quickly swooped in as well. 

“Felix, I have known you for a few hours at most but I would not hesitate to murder someone for you,” Changbin said and the rest chorused their agreement. But despite Changbin’s good intentions, Felix only cried harder. 

_“Yeah, fuck anyone who dares to hurt you again!”_ Even Jeongin chimed in through the device to send his reassurance.

Jisung laughed to himself as he watched his friends, both new and old, comfort one and another. Jisung’s heart, despite having a chunk of it glaringly missing, felt whole and reassured as if everything will be alright. 

Jisung tore his gaze from his friends only to see both Seohyun and Granny giving him a sly smile. 

“What?” Jisung asked the two ladies. 

“Nothing,” Seohyun sang before she sipped her tea. 

“Just watching how well you all get along.” Granny’s eyes crinkled when she smiled. 

Jisung shook his head. “What are you two talking about now? How much did you drink?” 

They laughed before static from the device interrupted them and Jeongin’s voice rang throughout the room. 

_“I found him! There’s no doubt, he’s here.”_

The words echoed in Jisung's ears and rattled through his brain before Jisung could process what it could mean. His skin erupted in goosebumps as the urge to get back what was his suddenly washed over him like a crashing wave. Jisung was calm despite how his heart was a drum in his rib cage. They basked in silence before they shared a look with each other. Then without another word, they all turned to look at Jisung and Jisung didn't waver under their gaze. 

Jisung took a deep breath before he radioed back to Jeongin. “Send us your location, we’ll meet you there.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The streets were empty and Jisung’s heart was sore from how frantically it had been beating. 

They had gotten ready as quickly as they could so that meant they lost their suit jackets, grabbed their weapons, then headed for the streets. 

Jeongin had told them that Minho was located in a townhouse tucked neatly between similar buildings. How did Jeongin know Minho’s location? Jisung wasn’t sure, but he wasn’t going to question it. 

Their shadows cut across the illuminated streets as they walked in tense solitude. Their only company was the moths falling in love with the lamps above. 

Jisung turned the corner and saw Jeongin leaning against a lamppost, eyes downcast. It took several deep breaths in order for Jisung to get a grip on reality and to not immediately run up to Jeongin and demand the younger to lead him to Minho. 

“Jeongin,” Jisung breathed when they were closer to the young boy. Jeongin met his gaze, his eyes appeared yellow under the street lamp. 

Jeongin nodded once before he gestured to the house in front of them. _He’s in there._

Turning to look at the building, Jisung was glad that it was a rather small lot. There was an upstairs that they’d have to look through, but considering how horizontally challenged most townhouses are, it wouldn’t take long to search. 

Turning back to address the whole group, Jisung met their steady gazes and felt adrenaline pump through his body. 

“Jeongin, great job finding Minho, but you’re going to stay outside with Seungmin and Felix to peruse the perimeter,” Jisung said as he swept over the group. He nearly laughed at how odd they looked; Chan was wearing sweats and an old tee shirt as he clutched his shield and broadsword. Hyunjin had managed to throw on a hoodie before they left, but the fancy tulle shirt he wore under his suit poked through. The rest of them, formal shoes and wrinkled suit pants, ignored the chilly night air and pretended that everything was going to be okay. 

When the three of them nodded their understanding, Jisung moved onto the remainder. “Chan and Hyunjin, you both are going to search upstairs first, Changbin and I will search downstairs.”

Giving them all one last look of encouragement, Jisung approached the building and allowed Seungmin to pick the lock. Once Seungmin unlocked the door, Jisung took a deep breath and entered. 

They were greeted to the staircase, which was only illuminated by a single lightbulb dangling above their heads. Moving to the side to allow Chan and Hyunjin through, the two skirted up the stairs quietly and quickly. Once they disappeared into the dark, Jisung nodded to Changbin and the older moved into the only room to the right of them. Changbin scanned the room, body crouched and on alert, before he gestured for Jisung to follow as Changbin went deeper into the house. 

The room that they entered, the living room, was quaint and tidy. So tidy in fact, Jisung wasn’t sure if it was ever used. A thin layer of dust resided on the furniture and smelled fresh out of the factory. 

Connecting to the living room was the kitchen. Changbin bolted around the island dividing the living room and kitchen, staff pointed menacingly, only to be met with nothing. The kitchen, unlike the living room, was much more lived-in if the dishes in the sink were any indicator. But other than the dishes, nothing else was out of place. 

“Do we have the wrong place?” Changbin mumbled.

“If Jeongin is as good as they said he was, then this is it.” 

Jisung walked around the kitchen, turning around slowly as he took in the space before them. The hanging ceiling lamp swung as someone above them walked in and out of the rooms. Jisung’s shoes clicked against the tiles and this would normally be something that Jisung would filter out as background noise, but something was off about it and it was making his head itch. 

Then it hit him. 

“Changbin Hyung,” Jisung called out softly but urgently. 

“Hm?” The boy said from where he was looking around in the living room. 

“There’s a basement.” 

“How do you know?” Changbin asked and his voice reciprocated the urgency in Jisung’s. 

“The tiles make different noises when I walk over them.” Jisung quickly approached the wall and pressed an ear against the surface. “Help me find the entrance.” 

They began to gently knock the walls, trying to find any indicator to an entrance. Jisung; however, was coming up short and anxiety was starting to settle in his body like the dust on the couch. 

“Here! Jisung it’s here!” Changbin said suddenly, sparking a bit of hope in Jisung’s chest. 

Changbin stood next to a bookshelf located at the other end of the small kitchen. Crossing the space in three wide steps, Jisung tried to move the bookshelf with Changbin but to no avail. 

“If the entrance is behind the bookshelf, we have to find a way to move it but-“ 

Before Jisung could finish vocalizing his thoughts, loud clatter resonated from above, sending bits of the popcorn ceiling to rain on them. 

“Who are you and how’d you get in my house?” 

“Where’s Minho Hyung, bitch?!” 

Jisung shared a startled look with Changbin before the tell-tale sign of fighting broke out above them. 

“Go, I’ll find a way to move this bookshelf.” Jisung shoved Changbin out of the way as he tried to move it on his own. 

“Are you sure?” Changbin asked tentatively but Jisung shooed him away. 

“Yes, now go before Hyunjin kills him. We need to interrogate the bastard later so make sure he can still talk.” 

Nodding once, Changbin promptly left and dashed up the stairs with quick steps. 

With a frustrated sigh, Jisung ran a hand through his hair and stepped back to reevaluate the way he was going to move the bookshelf. 

The oak bookshelf was relatively plain and there wasn't anything that stood out about it. It reached the ceiling and carried books and other obscure objects that Jisung couldn't care less about. The books were dusty, but the shelves were not.

After staring at the bookshelf for a few seconds, Jisung was hit with a sense of familiarity. The bookshelf reminded Jisung of the many secret hallways in the castle that he took advantage of when he was younger and of the hidden passageway back in Wolfgang’s Bookstore with the way that something seemingly innocent could hide a large secret. So based on those instances, Jisung hoped that there might be a hidden way to move the bookshelf. 

Without holding back, Jisung lodged his arms behind the various nicknacks and miscellaneous books and swept it off the shelves. He continued to clear the shelves of books and other items until he reached the second to last shelf. As he swept across, Jisung’s hand came in contact with an unmovable book, and without him realizing it, a satisfied smirk made its way onto his face. 

Pulling the book down from the top, Jisung heard a soft click before the whole bookshelf shuttered and dust fell from atop of the furniture. Ignoring how a third voice joined the shouting above, Jisung tugged on the bookshelf and easily moved it aside. 

Behind the bookshelf was exactly what Jisung expected there to be: a hidden passageway. 

Without another thought, Jisung darted into the passageway and down the stairs and rounded the corner only to be met with a closed door. After trying to open the door, it was clearly locked. 

“Minho? Minho are you there?” Jisung tried to call out but when he didn’t hear a response, Jisung began to gnaw the inside of his cheek. Did they have the wrong house? 

“Fuck it,” Jisung grumbled to himself. Breaking and entering the wrong house was better than not knowing if Minho was there or not. 

Pulling out one of his guns from his waistband, Jisung aimed at the softwood above the lock and began to fire until a sizable hole exposed the top of the lock. The distinct scent of sulfur and gunpowder tickled Jisung's nose, but it was merely a minor inconvenience that Jisung pushed to the back of his mind. Jisung grabbed the barrel of the still-hot gun and proceeded to slam the handle into the lock until it broke and the door swung open on its own. 

Wiping the sweat from his hairline, Jisung adjusted his grip on the gun and entered the basement cautiously. 

It was dark and Jisung had to give his eyes a second to adjust. The only light came from the residual moonlight from the kitchen, which was not enough to help. Luckily, Jisung found the light switch and quickly flicked it on. 

Jisung blinked a few times to adjust back to the bright light before he swept the room again. Shelves lined three walls and were filled with various liquids and solutions that had Jisung question if the substances were legal. Jisung eyed the crates in the corner before he spotted the shoe poking from behind the crates. 

Something akin to hope sparked in Jisung’s feeble chest when he recognized the shoe as the same one Minho had worn. Darting into the basement, Jisung rounded the crate with a smile that died as soon as he saw who was cowering in the corner. 

“Minho?” 

It felt as if someone had dumped a bucket of ice over Jisung’s body then left him outside in the winter. Jisung could barely process the hunched figure that looked so similar to Minho. 

“Hey, Minho? Are you alright?” 

Jisung crouched lower to get a closer look but Minho only flinched away and wrapped his arms tighter around himself. Confusion quickly washed over Jisung when he quickly scanned Minho and noticed that nothing was obviously off. Minho’s suit was wrinkled and dirty, but there were no bloodstains or any other human substances. 

Yet when Jisung reached to move Minho’s oily bangs from his forehead, the older boy only flinched away from his touch and began to mutter something under his breath. 

“Minho? I’m not mad at you anymore.” Jisung tried to smile but Minho wasn’t looking at him. “What are you saying?” 

When Minho didn’t respond, Jisung moved closer despite how Minho pressed himself further into the corner. 

It was hard to make out what the older boy was saying but after listening for a minute, realization dawned on him. 

“You’re sorry?” Jisung quirked his head aside. “What are you sorry about?” 

“Fo-for everything,” Minho whispered, surprising Jisung with how hoarse his voice was.

“There’s nothing for you to apologize for.” Jisung couldn’t help but chuckle nervously. 

Minho began to shake his head frantically. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“

“Minho.” Jisung tried to plead. “Minho, what are you talking about?” 

Minho continued to talk over Jisung as if Jisung wasn’t there. Minho, from his shaking form and pale face, looked the furthest thing from okay and the sight made Jisung’s blood run cold.

“I’m sorry for being useless, I’m sorry for needing so much, I’m sorry for not being enough, I’m sorry-“

Fear and anxiety began to swarm through Jisung's mind as his hands hovered in the air, unsure of what to do. Nothing could have prepared Jisung for the sight that greeted him. The brave and strong Minho that Jisung knew, the person that could make the ocean shrink in fear and the person who could make a god cry, was not the same person that Jisung currently watched. Jisung’s heart pounded painfully in his chest when he realized what Minho was muttering about, and he hated how he didn't know what to say. Jisung could only take a shuddering breath in as he realized that everything Minho told him just a few nights ago was only the surface of all the pain that Minho had been through.

The human psyche is very fragile, Jisung hated to admit but the sight before him only confirmed that. 

Jisung licked his chapped lips as nervous perspiration dotted his temples. Minho wasn't someone who submitted to their insecurities easily and It hasn’t even been a whole day, yet Minho was reduced to a sputtering mess on the verge of insanity. What happened?

“Minho!” Jisung said loudly, causing Minho to flinch but it got the older boy to stop ignoring him. “You have nothing to be sorry for, okay?”

Minho began to shake his head once more and Jisung was worried that he might hit his head. “No, it’s not okay. You’re right, you were always right.“ 

“I-“ Jisung bit back his words and quickly reevaluated what he was going to say. It was clear that Minho would not listen to anything with reason so perhaps if he focused on reassuring Minho, Minho would calm down. “Okay, I forgive you.”

Minho froze before he lifted his head a fraction, clearly not expecting Jisung to forgive him. When Minho's gaze found Jisung, Jisung couldn't help the fear that shot through his veins. 

One of the very first things that Jisung had grown to adore was the fire in Minho's mismatched eyes. No matter what they were doing, there was always a lingering flame that Jisung had to learn to depend on for motivation. Minho was always desperate to do more, to achieve great things, and Jisung, because of the strength and passion Minho always carried with him, believed that Minho could move mountains if he really wanted to. How could Jisung not believe that Minho could when the older boy was always filled with unwavering determination? But now as Jisung met Minho's glassy eyes, there was nothing but emptiness. 

“You forgive me? Why?” He asked in a small voice.

Jisung bit back his nerves and tried to give Minho the most reassuring smile he could muster. “Because I want to.”

Jisung must’ve done something right because Minho’s eyes widened and he slowly uncurled his arms from around him. Minho lifted his hands and began to reach for Jisung’s face as if under a spell. Jisung let him and remained as still as he could. 

“You’re real,” Minho said as if he couldn’t believe it. His hand hovered in the space between them.

“Yeah, I’m real.” With a gentle hand, Jisung wrapped his hand around Minho’s and guided it to his face. “See? Real.” 

Minho swallowed hard and began to take deeper breaths, much to Jisung’s relief. 

“Let’s get out of here, yeah?” 

Minho’s gaze never left Jisung’s as the older boy contemplated his words. Even if Minho took a bit of time to decide, Jisung remained where he was and let Minho hold his cheek. 

Jisung would wait forever if it meant that Minho would return back to him.

“Take as much time as you need. There’s no rush.” Jisung whispered. The air around them turned delicate as Jisung reveled in the feeling of the warm hand on his cheek and breathed in the scent that was all too familiar now. 

“I-“

“Jisung? Are you down there?” 

Jisung jumped when Changbin’s loud voice ricocheted down the staircase and was quickly doused in dread when two pairs of footsteps began to make their way down to the basement. 

Jisung wasn’t the only one who got scared, which was apparent when Minho yanked his hand away from Jisung with speed fast enough to burn Jisung’s skin. Minho, who had started to open up to Jisung, had returned to his previous state but this time he rocked back and forth while mumbling “I’m sorry” like a mantra. 

“Changbin,” Jisung called tentatively and cringed when Minho flinched at his voice. “Yeah, I’m down here, but don’t-“ 

“Yo, did you find him?” Changbin asked and Jisung started to panic when Changbin began to approach him, followed closely by Hyunjin. 

“Hyung, please go back.” Jisung pleaded but Changbin only shot him a confused glare. 

“Why? What are you- oh.” 

Jisung held his breath when Changbin’s gaze fell onto Minho, eyes blown wide. 

“What? What are you looking at?” Hyunjin suddenly asked before he moved to look over Changbin’s shoulder despite Jisung’s protest. All blood quickly drained out of Hyunjin’s face when the elf saw Minho’s current state and Jisung wanted to scream in frustration. “Hyung?” Hyunjin called softly. 

It was as if Hyunjin had snapped the last shred of sanity Minho had because the moment the other had spoken, Minho began to scream. 

Minho's voice was hoarse as he begged for them to forgive him of crimes they had no clue he committed. He choked on his sobs but didn’t stop to catch his breath. With every gasping breath and each desperate cry, Jisung’s heart was stabbed over and over again mercilessly. 

“What the hell happened?” Changbin mumbled to no one in particular. 

“Fuck! I don’t know.” Jisung hissed and tried to ignore how his heart was breaking. “I don’t fucking know!” 

Without a second thought, Jisung silently asked Minho for forgiveness before he pulled his gun from his waistband. He gripped his gun tightly before he used the butt of the grip to knock Minho out cold in one swing. 

Minho slumped forward and Jisung managed to catch him before he could hit the ground. Everything was suddenly deathly still, a stark contrast to the chaos in Jisung's mind. The three of them stared at Minho’s unconscious form as anger ran through Jisung’s veins like blood and Jisung came to the conclusion that he had never wanted revenge more than he did now.

“Changbin Hyung, Hyunjin, you guys apprehended the guy that you found, right?” 

“Yeah,” Changbin trailed off. “Tied up and everything.”

“Okay good. Good.” Jisung nodded to himself as he took a shaky breath in. “Hyung, Hyunjin, take care of Minho real quick.” 

Moving the unconscious boy from his grasp to Changbin’s, Jisung picked up his discarded gun and made sure it was loaded. Without another word, Jisung rolled out his shoulders, schooled his face, and made his way to the door. 

“Where are you going?” Hyunjin whispered and grabbed the sleeve of his shirt. When Jisung spun around to look the elf in the eyes, Jisung’s facade nearly crumbled. 

Hyunjin’s handsome face was reduced to despair as his lips wobbled and his eyes glistened. Jisung couldn’t imagine how much he had gone through these past few days, from being forced to buy back his best friend and now discovering his Hyung on the verge of insanity, Jisung admired the strength Hyunjin had. 

“I’m going to give the bastard that did this to Minho a piece of my mind.” 

Hyunjin nodded once before his grip on Jisung’s sleeve dropped and he averted his gaze to Minho’s unconscious form. 

Spinning on his heels, Jisung marched up the stairs and found Chan overlooking an eccentric man with Jeongin, Felix, and Seungmin watching from the doorway. The strange man’s hair was unruly and greying, his pupils blown wide, but what unnerved Jisung the most was the bright smile on his lips. 

“Prince Jisung!” The man gushed as if meeting a celebrity. 

Chan tossed Jisung a weirded-out look but Jisung ignored it in favor of pointing his gun between the man’s eyes. 

“Who the hell are you?” Jisung‘s voice was void of any emotion. 

The man seemed to not care about the gun pointed at him. “Park Hoonwong, my Prince!” The man chirped. “Did you see what I did to Minho, my Prince? Amazing isn’t it?” 

Jisung glared at Hoonwong and could not believe how excited he was to tell Jisung this. Anger spiked through Jisung’s blood and Jisung tightened his hold on his gun. “I’m asking the questions here, Park Hoonwong.” Jisung took a sharp inhale of air to keep himself from shooting the man right then and there. “Now, answer this: what the fuck did you do to Minho?” 

Hoonwong beamed at Jisung and Jisung had to resist the urge to vomit. “It’s a new drug I’ve been working on. It targets your insecurities and all of your darkest thoughts in the form of hallucinations. I didn’t know how effective it was until I tried it on Minho. It’s remarkable how fast it works, my Prince.” 

Pain, disgust, hatred. Jisung was feeling a multitude of emotions at once as the man before him ranted about his drug as if he had discovered the cure for a deadly disease. It made Jisung sick to his stomach. 

“My Prince, since it’s so effective, you should rehire me at the castle and I’ll definitely prove my worth. With the resources available to me there, I would be able to refine all of my ideas and-“ 

“Shut the fuck up,” Jisung nearly snarled and pressed his gun harder against his head. “Undo what you did to Minho now.” 

Hoonwong stared at Jisung owlishly before his chapped lips began to move. “Undo? I can’t undo that.” 

“Do you not feel this?” Jisung tapped his gun against Hoonwong’s temple with enough force to make him flinch. “Now is not the time to be joking because I will shoot you without hesitation. So enough with the clown shit. Undo what you did to Minho.” 

“My Prince, I believe you are the one joking around because there is no way for me to undo what the drug had done to Minho. The purpose of the drug is to amplify your insecurities and dark thoughts. The insanity part is entirely on him.” 

Jisung stared at Hoonwong and Hoonwong stared back. “Then you are of no use to me.” Jisung startled himself with how disinterested he sounded, but he didn’t give himself any time to process it. 

Raising his gun back to Hoonwong’s forehead, Jisung pulled the trigger and didn’t flinch when the loud bang echoed throughout the house or when Hoonwong’s blood splattered across his chest. Jisung didn't think twice as he pulled the trigger again and again only to leave Hoonwong’s face riddled with holes and bullets embedded into the floor. Blood oozed from where the head should have been and soaked into the carpet. The pungent smell cut through the air and Jisung scrunched his nose in disgust as red began to curl around his shoes. Jisung, despite the warm gun in his hand and the startled cry from someone behind him, didn’t stop until he felt a heavy hand on his shoulder. 

Turning to the owner of the hand, Jisung expected Chan to be disappointed in him for his crass and diabolical action considering Chan was a pacifist, but Chan only looked at Hoonwong with a mixture of disgust and hatred. 

Feeling his eyes on him, Chan looked up from the body and gave Jisung a small head shake. 

As if all the adrenaline in his body had suddenly dissipated into nothingness, Jisung was met with overwhelming exhaustion. “Search the house for any journal or something that could be of any help to us.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho woke up gasping for air as he stared at a smooth white ceiling. 

His mind was blank as his heart slowed and he eventually found his breath again. It was nearly blissful with how empty his brain was, which was quite odd because he normally would have been sent into a fit of panic at the fact that he couldn't remember where he was or why he was there, but the air smelled of citric and mint served to calm Minho’s disheveled heart. 

Minho moved to get rid of the sleep clinging to his eyes, but something prevented his hand from rising. Pushing himself onto an elbow, Minho subconsciously smiled when he saw Jisung sleeping peacefully next to him, slumped across the edge of the bed in a position that could not have been comfortable in the slightest, clinging to his wrist as if his life depended on it. 

After moving into a more comfortable sitting position, Minho pried his wrist from Jisung’s grasp only to card a careful hand through Jisung’s warm brown hair. The healthy strands moved easily as Minho pushed the younger’s fringe away from his face, but he stilled when Minho got a clear view. 

Jisung’s face, still as handsome as always, smooshed against the bed with red-rimmed eyes and dried tears down his cheeks. Panic quickly began to take hold of Minho’s heart when he realized that Jisung had been crying. 

But why was he crying? 

Jisung stirred and Minho felt as if he was caught doing something he shouldn’t have. Before he could move his hand from Jisung’s face, the younger’s eyes opened and found his. 

“Minho? Are you awake?” 

Minho struggled to form an appropriate response as he watched concern swim through Jisung’s beautiful eyes so vividly, but what pulled the strongest on his heartstrings was how scared Jisung was.

Why was he scared? 

“Are you okay?” Jisung asked tentatively as if a single breath out of place would knock Minho over. Minho wanted to reply and reassure the younger, but panic was crawling up Minho’s throat like bile. 

Then all of the memories suddenly came to him like an unexpected wave and Minho wanted to scream. 

The guilt, the self-hatred, all of it came spiraling into the forefront of Minho’s mind and replied like a movie stuck in a loop. Minho’s entire body trembled as he pushed himself to the furthest edge of the bed away from Jisung as if the distance could save Jisung from all the damage he had already done. Minho knew better, of course, that the pain that he had inflected could never be taken back but it made him feel minutely better to put some distance between him and the boy. 

“Hey, everything will be okay,” Jisung said with hands in the air as if surrendering. “There’s no need to panic.” 

Jisung said there was no need to panic but that did nothing to dispel the unease boiling in Minho’s chest. However, what did distract Minho from his panic was how calm Jisung was. Why wasn’t he angry? 

“Why aren’t you angry at me?” Minho’s voice came out as a hoarse whisper. 

Jisung cocked his head to the side, peering at Minho with innocent eyes. “Why would I be angry?” 

“I- well,” Minho licked his lips nervously and looked away, too ashamed to meet Jisung’s pure gaze. “I put you through so much bullshit and caused you a lot of pain. Not to mention I’ve said some rude things to you before and I’ve been a hindrance to you this entire time. And that doesn’t even include the time when I tried to kill you nor does that include how useless I am all the time and-“ Minho took a shaky breath in, already working himself up to a panic attack. 

Jisung was quick to shake his head and give Minho a stern look. 

_Great, now he’s really mad._

Jisung spoke before Minho could, “you were never a hindrance nor are you useless nor have you put me through bullshit-“

“But-“

Jisung held a finger in the air and hushed Minho, “I’m not done yet. If anyone here were to be angry, it should be you- no, don’t interrupt me-“ Minho closed his mouth again. “So I want to apologize for essentially manipulating you into this whole fiasco and I’m sorry for using you to further my own personal agenda.”

“Yes, you did try to kill me,” Jisung continued without giving Minho any time to protest, “But I don’t blame you because you were sent by someone else to do their dirty work, and to be fair, I do get a lot of death threats so it’s no biggie.” 

“How is your near-death experience no biggie?” 

“I’m not done, don’t say anything, and let me finish,” Jisung hissed playfully which evoked a small smile from Minho. Jisung returned the look with his own smile before he sobered and continued. “I just want to conclude this by saying that this is entirely my fault because if you didn’t accompany me everywhere, none of this would have happened at all.” 

Minho could only sit there, mouth agape, and struggle to come up with some sort of coherent thought. 

At the end of it all; however, Minho could only say, “it’s still not your fault, though.”

Jisung sighed but it didn’t seem to be a bad thing. The younger looked fondly at Minho with a soft twinkle in his eyes. “I’m still apologizing to you.” 

“There’s no need because I don’t believe you did anything wrong.” 

“But I feel like I did, so I’m apologizing.” 

“You-“ Minho began but bit back his words.

“Me?” Jisung’s smile widened to a grin as he climbed on top of the bed and slowly crept closer to Minho. “Finish your sentence, I dare you.”

“You.” Minho nodded his head as if he made the most profound statement of the century, but he quickly came to regret his decision when he caught a glance of Jisung’s chest due to how close the younger was and how his shirt hung loosely around his neck. Minho had to look away before he could do something he’d regret. Plus, he didn't have the right to look at Jisung in that way.

“Finish your sentence.” Jisung dared as he pressed his face closer to Minho’s. 

Minho’s breath hitched in his throat and he was pretty sure he wasn’t breathing but he could make out the comforting scent of oranges and fresh mint from the younger. It was intoxicating and it was making Minho’s head spin. Or maybe that was because he wasn’t breathing. 

“You can’t ignore my apology and then expect me to forgive you when you didn’t accept mine.” Minho wasn’t sure how he was able to form a coherent sentence, so he had to give himself a bit of credit when he did. 

Jisung sighed and pulled back, which Minho was thankful for. He could breathe properly now. 

“Fine, I forgive you. Now, do you forgive me?” 

“Wait, you can’t just forgive me so easily.” Minho gaped at Jisung, affronted at the fact that Jisung wasn’t taking his apology seriously. 

“Why not? It’s my apology, so I can accept it whenever I want to.” 

Minho groaned and cursed under his breath. His heart was a tiny bit lighter. “You’re annoying.” 

Jisung laughed before he slid off the bed and adjusted his clothes. “What do you say we go and annoy our other friends, hm?” 

And with those simple words, Minho’s mood soured. 

It wasn’t even Jisung’s fault, but the guilt from earlier reared its ugly head once more. 

“Oh, right,” Minho mumbled to himself before he dropped his head in his arms. He has to apologize to them too.

“What? What’s wrong?” Jisung asked and was by his side in an instant, ready to place a comforting hand on his shoulder. “Does your head hurt?”

Minho cringed away from Jisung’s touch and cursed himself for dropping his walls around Jisung. He shouldn’t let the younger’s warm words and sweet mannerisms distract him from the fact that he did hurt him. Even if Jisung had accepted his apology easily doesn't mean he forgave himself. 

Plus, Minho had six others to apologize to. 

Fuck, he had a lot to make up for. 

“No, my head is fine.” _Stop worrying about me, I’m not worth it._ “I just- I need to get myself ready.” 

_How angry will they be? Do they hate me?_

_Of course, they hate me._

“There’s nothing to worry about,” Minho heard Jisung’s soft words. They were delicate and sweet like thinly spun sugar. “They’re not mad at you, just concerned.”

_A burden. I’m a burden._

“That’s the problem!” Minho huffed, ripping his hands away from his face so he could see Jisung. “Why are you all concerned after everything I’ve done?” 

Fear flashed across Jisung’s face as the younger flinched from Minho's hasty movements and the blood drained from Minho’s face. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry, Jisung.” Minho internally scolded himself. _Can’t do anything right._ "I shouldn't lash out like that."

“No, no, it’s alright.” Jisung quickly said to console Minho. “I was just surprised that’s all.” 

“You don’t need to lie, Jisung.” Minho wanted to just die. Maybe it would atone for everything he’s done. “I can see it on your face.” 

“No, you don’t.” Jisung huffed and crossed his arms over his chest like a child. “And I’m not lying about how I was surprised nor about that fact that everyone else is concerned and you shouldn’t apologize for it.” 

Minho’s face scrunched in disbelief but the younger placed a finger over Minho’s mouth before he could talk back. 

“We chose to be concerned for you and it has absolutely nothing to do with you so, you shouldn’t worry about that.” 

Minho arched an eyebrow. “You’re concerned for me, yet it has nothing to do with me.”

“That’s right.”

They stared at each other before Jisung burst out laughing and Minho followed tentatively after. It was small, but he was laughing nonetheless. 

“You’re annoying,” Minho emphasized again, which only made Jisung laugh more. 

“You love me.” Jisung winked playfully but Minho’s smile dropped from his face when he was suddenly hit with realization. 

The realization was a warm grasp on his heart and it quelled the anxiety that Minho had grown accustomed to. It was a solution to his problems. The answer was so simple, Minho’s an idiot for not realizing sooner. 

“Wha-what? Did I say something wrong or-“

“No,” Minho interrupted. He knew what he had to do now. “I do love you.” 

“Woah, I- wait.” Jisung's face was reddening at a rapid pace but Minho wouldn’t let himself relish in the way his cheeks glowed. He didn’t deserve to. 

With a slight shake of his head, Minho rose from the bed and straightened his shirt. Minho wasn’t sure where the strength to carry out his realization came from, but he wasn’t going to question it. 

“Where are you going?” Jisung’s hand wrapped around Minho’s wrist before Minho could make it far. 

“I'm going to go apologize to our friends, so I can leave with some reassurance that I’ve done all that I can.” 

Minho gave the younger a small smile and tried to ignore how absolutely shattered Jisung looked. 

His eyes were rimmed with red and glassy from unshed tears. They were as beautiful as they always had been, but they deserved to look at someone who wasn’t broken, who wasn’t used, who wasn’t worthless. 

Minho had made the decision to leave rather easily. He wouldn’t be able to hurt those closest to him if he was nowhere near them. 

“Leave? You’re leaving?” 

Minho nodded. “So I don’t hurt you more.” 

“Because you love me.”

“Exactly.” Minho was glad that Jisung understood. Not only would it make it easier to leave, but it gave Minho hope that the others would understand too. 

“You’re an idiot.” Jisung spat while the first tears began to drip down his flushed cheeks. 

Startled, Minho reached to wipe the tears away but stopped himself before he could. He shouldn’t touch him, it’ll make it harder to leave if he knew just how much he was leaving behind. 

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry.” Minho’s heart wrenched in his chest as the beautiful boy in front of him choke on a sob. 

“If you leave, it’ll hurt me more than if you stayed,” Jisung managed to say between hiccups. 

“But why,” Minho’s hands shook as he fought with himself. None of this was making any sense to him. “I’ve been so cruel to you, I don’t understand.” 

Jisung’s hands curled into fists as he glared at Minho, lower lip trembling. “Because I love you too, goddamn it!”

Before Minho could react to Jisung’s declaration, Jisung’s hands wrapped around the collar of Minho’s shirt and forcefully tugged him closer until their lips smashed together in the messiest, awkwardest, and most painful way. 

Their teeth knocked against each other, but Jisung didn’t pull away, he only pressed harder until Minho was tumbling backward onto the bed. Jisung broke away for a brief second to straddle Minho's waist before his lips were back on Minho’s, kissing like his life depended on it. 

When Minho’s brain finally caught up to what was happening, Minho laid as still as he could with his arms by his side and his heart aching in his chest. 

“Fuck,” Jisung hissed under his breath before he smashed his lips back onto Minho’s. “Why aren’t you kissing me back?” Jisung said before another sob wracked through his body in the form of a full body tremor. 

Fat tears dripped onto Minho’s face as Jisung gave up and cried into his hands above Minho. Minho’s heart crumbled more with each gasp of air Jisung took. 

Minho didn’t know what to do nor what he should do, so he resorted to remaining quiet in hopes that Jisung would just cry himself out and eventually give up. 

Jisung did cry himself out, Minho was proven right about that when Jisung’s sobs turned into sniffles, but he wasn’t right about him giving up because Jisung most definitely did not. 

“Maybe- _hic-_ if I give all of myself to you, you won’t leave.” 

Jisung wiped his snot using the hem of his shirt before he pulled the entire garment off of his body. Minho stilled and he was sure his eyes were bulging out of its sockets when Jisung choked back another hiccup and moved to unzip his jeans. 

“Jisung wait- '' It was as if someone had jump-started his body when Minho sprung to a sitting position. Wrapping his hands around Jisung’s wrists, Minho stilled Jisung’s shaking hands and yanked them away from his half-zipped pants. 

Minho’s touch broke the dam that held Jisung’s tears since the Prince began to sob once more. Minho’s internal conflict only increased as he debated how he should handle the situation. On one hand, he wanted to comfort Jisung and stop his tears because Jisung should never be in pain, but on the other hand, he wasn’t sure if he was allowed to since he was the reason why Jisung was crying in the first place. 

“What are you doing?” Minho’s voice came out shaky. 

"I've lost my mom once and my father was never mine," Jisung's voice cracked at the end but he continued, "Almost everything I had was always examined first, analyzed and touched before I could." Jisung went limp in Minho’s hold, his chin rested on his chest. “Being a prince is lonely. Nothing has ever truly been mine and only mine and now I'm going to lose you too. Don’t leave me like everyone else. I almost lost you once, I don’t want to lose you again.” 

Minho nearly missed Jisung’s plea amidst his gasps of air, but he heard him nonetheless. 

“I don’t-“ 

“Please. Just don’t go.”

Minho slowly released his grasp on Jisung’s wrists, which caused the younger’s hands to fall to his lap. Jisung didn’t make any effort to move away and only continued to cry, and a hiccup would occasionally break the stifling silence periodically. 

To say he had no clue what he was supposed to do was a complete understatement. The moment Jisung crashed his lips onto Minho’s was the moment Minho’s plan derailed and crashed into a burning pile of shit. 

Minho was supposed to apologize to everyone then bid his farewells and leave. To where? Minho had no idea, but anywhere was fine as long as he wasn’t hurting anyone ever again. 

But because of the perfect boy on top of him, he wasn’t sure anymore if leaving was the right decision anymore. 

What Minho wanted more than anything was to run away from the world and from prophecies. He wanted the boy with honey brown hair, the boy who had deep beautiful eyes that Minho would helplessly get lost in if he could. Minho wanted him so badly, but he knew that he couldn't and he shouldn’t. But God, he really did want him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Minho said before he carefully lifted Jisung’s chin with a light hand. 

Minho watched as crystal-like tears dripped from Jisung’s eyes before he took a shuddering breath. “Just stay. Stay with me and nothing will hurt anymore.” 

Minho’s eyebrows pinched together as he contemplated what to do. He wanted to make the right choice but it wasn’t as simple as saying yes or no. There will be consequences with either choice, and Minho knew this but Minho was nothing if not a coward. He had been running away from consequences his whole life, too scared to face the truth, and he was scared now too, unsure if he would be able to make the right decision. 

But as he held Jisung’s face like he was the last treasure on earth, Minho felt a strong sense of desire. A desire to keep Jisung for himself, to be selfish and greedy, to forget about everything else and just hold the person before him. 

“I know you want to stay,” Jisung said between hiccups, somehow knowing exactly what Minho was thinking. Jisung’s voice steadily grew stronger the more he spoke. “Just be selfish for once and choose me.” 

Minho’s heart trembled and he felt dizzy as he tried to decipher his own thoughts. He was sure that he would pass out due to the rollercoaster of emotions he’s been through, but Minho had to try because he owed it to Jisung. 

As Jisung's eyes met his, redrimmed and glassy from tears, Minho came to the conclusion that Jisung was the physical representation of spring, of new beginnings and budding hope. Jisung- whose eyes were typically sharp with cunningness yet warm with mirth, his gentle sloping nose, and beautiful lips that Minho wished would stretch into an equally beautiful smile- was warm, soft, perfect. Jisung was home.

“Okay,” Minho could barely process what he was saying. It was like he was trying to talk but his head was stuck underwater. “Okay, I’ll stay for you.”

Minho prayed that he was making the right decision. It certainly felt like he did when Jisung let out a light chuckle and wiped his tear-stained cheeks. 

“Thank you,” Jisung whispered and Minho found himself slipping. He was falling quickly for the boy in front of him and Minho found that he was rapidly accepting that fact. As Minho gently angled the younger’s face, he couldn't help but think that Jisung was a flame hotter than the sun and he wouldn’t mind getting burned by him. 

Minho placed his lips carefully onto Jisung’s and warmth bloomed across Minho’s chest when Jisung responded almost desperately like Minho was his oxygen. Their lips slotted together naturally as if made for each other, and Minho grew more and more addicted to the taste of Jisung the longer their lips touched.

Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck while Minho slipped his hands around Jisung’s small waist, running a thumb across the younger’s hip bones. Jisung shuttered at the touch then soon gasped when Minho gently tugged on his bottom lip with his teeth. 

Minho took advantage of his gasp to deepen the kiss and swallowed the moan Jisung made. They explored each other’s mouths and Minho found himself getting drunk off of Jisung’s sweet taste. 

Jisung was like a warm spring day full of promises and joy, like reading a book under a blanket of sunlight, like coming home after being away for months. Minho wanted to be greedy and hoard all of it for himself. 

All Minho would smell was Jisung, all he could taste, all he could feel, all he could touch, that was all Jisung. Minho wouldn’t have it any other way. 

Minho dragged a hand up to Jisung’s back just to touch more of Jisung’s skin and to reassure himself that this was all real and that Jisung was real. 

Shuddering from his touch, Jisung pulled back only to rest his forehead against Minho's, their breaths intermingled. Minho opened his eyes first and took this opportunity to carefully observe every unique feature of Jisung’s face and commit it to memory. 

Before long, Jisung’s eyelashes, clumped together because of his tears, finally fluttered open to reveal the eyes that Minho loved and adored. Jisung giggled quietly when Minho didn’t look away and moved his face to the nook of Minho’s neck to hide his bashful blush. 

“I won’t leave,” Minho said partially to convince himself. “I promise I won’t.”

Jisung laughed again and pulled himself tighter against Minho. “Okay. I trust you.” 

Even if Minho’s life depended on it, he wouldn’t be able to leave Jisung. Not after knowing how addicting Jisung was. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho thought he was ready to talk to all of their friends and he continued to repeat that he was ready like a song stuck in his head, but even if Jisung’s hand clutched his tightly and reassuringly, Minho was not ready. 

Hell, he was two seconds away from a panic attack. 

Staring at the Sherpa rug beneath his feet, Minho tried to recall what the living room looked like as a last-ditched attempt to calm himself down. The walls were a pale blue color with white trim. The couches they sat on were white faux leather and the table in front of him was made of blackened iron with a glass tabletop. 

Above the couch in front of him was a giant circular mirror that Minho remembered vividly because he had caught sight of his reflection in the decoration and could barely recognize who was staring back at him. 

Taking a deep breath, Minho peeked from under his lashes after he spilled his entire guts to his friends, (plus Seohyun since they were currently crashing in her hideout house in Korea) but flinched when he found each one of them staring him down.

The most accurate way to describe how he was currently feeling would be like an ant under a magnifying glass. 

“Hyung,” Minho snapped his head up when Hyunjin was the first to break the silence. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Hyunjin!” Felix nudged Hyunjin with his elbow. “Be a little nicer.” 

“I mean it fondly!” 

Minho shook his head to quickly dispel any unease. “I’m fine. Don’t worry about me.”

“Don’t worry?” Seungmin scoffed. “If what Jisung told us about what happened down in Park Hoonwong’s basement is correct, then we have all the right to worry.” 

Minho was fully aware that what Seungmin said was true and he hated himself for it. 

Minho gnawed on his lower lip and tried to keep the anxious jitters at bay but he was pretty sure they all could tell that Minho was one giant ball of nerves. Sinking further into the corner of the couch, Minho prayed to whatever deity that might be listening to kill him right then and there because Minho could not handle their disappointed glares. 

“Yeah, I know,” Minho said and resorted to staring at Seugmin’s left ear so he wouldn’t have to look him in the face. “And I’m sorry.” 

Seungmin sighed but it was Jeongin who spoke up. “We know you’re apologetic, Hyung, but we worry about you because we care.” 

“I mean think of it as a personal problem,” Changbin said this time. “We want to worry about you so we will.” 

Minho chuckled drily to himself. “That’s what Jisung said.”

“See? Everyone has the same viewpoint.” Chan jumped onto the idea with a warm smile. 

Minho only sighed and his desire to disappear amplified. He couldn’t wrap his mind around their concern and it wasn’t like he didn’t have this problem before where he had difficulty believing others’ good intentions, but it was a lot more difficult to believe now. 

Every little voice in his brain was yelling at him that he was a fraud, that he was manipulating them for their pity. The worst part about it all was that Minho believed those voices. They were consistent and unrelenting whispers that wore down Minho’s true perception of reality until he was second-guessing every emotion on his friends’ faces. 

Minho tossed a glance toward Jisung and found the younger boy already looking at him with a gentle smile. 

“It’s easier said than done to just accept what you’re telling me,” Minho mumbled to no one in particular. 

A thick silence enveloped them as Minho pulled his legs up and squeezed them as closely as he could to his body. He didn’t want to take up more space than he had to and maybe it would help prevent himself from falling apart. 

“Actually,” Seohyun spoke up for the first time since they gathered in the living room. “There might be a way to make things a little easier.” 

Minho glanced up at her warily. “And what’s that? The only way this could get easier is if I die.”

“Hyung, don’t joke about that.” Felix’s lower lip wobbled and Minho choked back his retort. 

Seohyun sighed and placed a hand on his shoulder. “No, you’re not going to die. I’ve been doing research with Seungmin and we found a way that may help. There are no guarantees, but it's the best shot that we have.”

Taking a shaky breath in, Minho relented. “What is it then?”

“Using a crystal to amplify Seohyun-Ssi"s magic, we can transfer some of your memories into us seven,” Seungmin explained. “Basically we will be diffusing your troubles so that each person has a bit little to carry and you don't have to deal with it yourself.” 

“No.” Minho didn’t need to think twice. 

“Wha- why not?” Hyunjin pouted. “It’s a great idea and we’re all on board.” 

Minho sighed and tilted his head back to stare at the ceiling. “Because I don’t want to give you all more things to deal with. You guys all have to deal with me as a person, I don’t want you guys to have to deal with my trauma too.” 

“Minho, we can’t act like we understand your pain,” Chan said, his smooth voice wrapped around Minho like a warm blanket. “But we all want to do this. We want to help you and I know you probably think you’re being selfish, but it's okay to be selfish especially when everyone around you supports it.” 

“There’s a lot to unpack if we’re going to delve into my brain,” Minho muttered after he ran a tired hand over his face. 

“Then so be it.” Jeongin shrugged. “We’re prepared for whatever’s coming.”

Minho met each of their gazes, desperately trying to find any single grain of hesitation, but was met with nothing of the sort. Each one of them seemed confident in their decision and Minho was coming up with very little to rebuttal with.

Turning to look at the last person, Minho watched as a warm smile stretched over Jisung’s handsome face. No trace of second-guessing to be found. 

Giving Seohyun a small nod, Minho gave in. “I guess I’m in.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Jisung stared at Minho’s sleeping form on the couch and wanted to shoot himself in the forehead. 

“Can you stop shaking your leg?” Changbin hissed from where he sat next to him on the couch. “You’re shaking the whole thing.” 

“I’m sorry,” Jisung hissed back and watched how Jeongin sat in the armchair and waited for Seohyun to start. “I’m nervous.” 

“You’re going last,” Chan laughed from the floor, sipping on an orange juice box with red-rimmed eyes. “You’ll be fine.”

Jisung scoffed but didn’t say much and didn’t stop shaking his leg, much to Changbin’s annoyance. He couldn’t help how anxious he had been since Hyunjin went first. 

It started off well, Seohyun gave Minho tea infused with ingredients to help him sleep and after a few seconds, Minho was out cold. After Hyunjin had sat in the armchair in a comfortable position, Seohyun had taken a deep breath then placed her one hand on Hyunjin’s forehead and the other on Minho’s then began to chant softly. 

Jisung had no idea what language the chant was, but after a second, her fingers tattoos started to glow a warm yellow color and Jisung could see how her eyes shone under her closed eyelids. After five minutes or so, which felt more like an hour, the glow crawled up to her palms before stopping altogether. 

Hyunjin wobbled for a bit before slumping forward, but luckily Seungmin was there to catch him. What wasn’t fortunate; however, was how immediately after, Hyunjin began to sob. 

They all were startled to see Hyunjin react so strongly, but Hyunjin had insisted that he was more sensitive than usual, so they all brushed it off as nothing. But when Felix had gone next, then Seungmin, then Changbin, then Chan, and they all cried to some degree, Jisung was nervous, to say the least. 

If Changbin, the most emotionally stunted person Jisung knew, cried, then it must be worse than what they were saying. 

Seohyun started the chant for the sixth time, the glow disappeared under the short sleeves of her dress, Jeongin took a deep breath of air and closed his eyes. 

Another five minutes passed before Seohyun dropped her arms with a tired huff and her arms stopped glowing. She wiped a thin sheen of sweat from her hairline before Jeongin’s eyes began to water as he gasped for air like he was stuck underwater. 

Wordlessly, Chan helped the boy out of the chair so that Jisung could go next and passed him a juice box. 

Sparing the younger boy a reassuring smile, Jisung sat in the armchair for his turn. 

“Are you comfortable?” Seohyun said with a weak smile. 

Jisung nodded, not trusting his voice before he closed his eyes and waited. 

A warm hand placed itself onto his forehead and with a subtle intake, Seohyun began her chant. 

Focusing on his breathing, Jisung breathed in, breathed out, then he was falling. 

He fell into something akin to water and was washed in a cool sensation, but it wasn’t a sharp change from warm to cold. In fact, Jisung almost found it relaxing. 

Jisung wasn’t sure where he was or what was happening since he was encased in a whole lot of nothing. What were the others crying about? This was nice.

But Jisung spoke too soon because suddenly he was tugged forward until he found himself looking straight at Park Hoonwong. 

Fury overcame Jisung as he stared up at Hoonwong and Jisung got the overwhelming itch to punch the man and possibly kill him again, but when he moved his arms, he was met with restraint. Glancing down, his arms were tied. 

Hoonwong was saying something but Jisung couldn’t understand him, the man’s voice came through like he was underwater. When Jisung opened his mouth to respond, what came out wasn’t what he wanted to say nor was it his voice. 

_“Do your worst.”_

_“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”_

Pain flared throughout Jisung’s body and he convulsed as lightning ran through his skin. Jisung couldn’t help but scream, scream until his voice was raw and hoarse, scream until someone stopped the torture beneath his skin. 

Then suddenly, a new type of pain shot through Jisung’s body and he had to choke back a sob. Jisung could only compare the feeling to being ripped apart from the inside out. Something was cracking and Jisung realized belatedly that he had fallen from his chair, but he couldn’t find a single ounce of care especially when every inch of his body was scorching with pain. 

Unable to take it anymore, Jisung tried to squeeze his eyes shut but Minho was not a coward so Jisung saw everything Minho had including the bones protruding from his body in unnatural angles. 

Minho had been tortured then managed to remain sane this entire time? Jisung wasn’t sure how the man hadn’t gone mad ages ago. 

Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Jisung was suddenly brought back to the events unfolding before him when he heard the soft jingle of keys. 

Glancing up, Jisung felt his blood run cold when he was met with his own eyes staring down at him. 

Then just like that, Jisung understood. This was the memory of back when Minho tried to assassinate Jisung. Back when Jisung went down to make a deal with the older boy.

Before anyone could say anything, Jisung was pulled backward and he found himself staring into the void like before, but this time he was not as relaxed. His heart raced frantically in his chest and Jisung was sure that the others could hear it. What really made his anxiety skyrocket; however, was the soft voices that seemed to be coming from miles away.

_“Are you alright Seohyun-Ssi?”_ Was that Chan?

_“Ye-yeah, I’m fine, Chan. It’s just- it's a little weird right now because there’s a block.”_ Seohyun responded back. Jisung wanted to respond and ask for clarification, but even though he tried his best to shout, his voice never came out.

_“Will everything be alright?”_

_“Yeah, of course.”_ She did not sound confident. _“I’ll just need to push a little harder, don’t worry.”_

_“Alright, if you-“_

Without warning, searing hot pain scorched through his head and ripped a scream out of his throat. It was as if someone had impaled his brain with a hot iron rod and Jisung clutched his head in a desperate attempt at alleviating the pain but the pain only continued to flare. The agony traveled to every inch of his body until Jisung couldn't bear to touch himself or even move because the pain was too great.

Jisung gasped for air as he choked on the pain and couldn’t help but plead to anyone who would listen to help him. At this point, Jisung didn’t care if someone killed him. If the pain stopped, Jisung wouldn’t care what method they chose. 

The pain increased exponentially until Jisung’s consciousness started to slip and his eyes drooped closed. 

  
  
  
  


_It was a slow and lethargic spring day. Dust particles danced in the air, illuminated from the setting sun. The moon was close to taking over the sun’s place in the sky and as it did so, it painted the sky a lovely shade of pinks and purples._

_Minho laid on his back, a book in hand, as his eyes traced lazily over the words, not quite paying attention to the story because his attention was being called elsewhere._

_Jisung’s head rested on Minho’s stomach and he played with Minho’s fingers as if they were the most interesting thing in the world. Jisung was saying something, but the words fell to deaf ears._

_Suddenly, the weight was gone from his stomach and his head was being turned without his consent._

_“Hey! Are you listening to me?” Minho could hear the pout in Jisung’s voice but he chose to ignore the younger in favor of reading his book._

_But if someone were to ask him what the plot of the book was, Minho would have no idea what to say._

_Minho’s eyes stayed trained on the book but it wasn't long before the innocent object was snatched out of his grasp and tossed across the room._

_The book landed on the polar bear rug with a dull thunk. Minho sighed before he turned to give Jisung a glare._

_“Hey, I was reading that.”_

_“I know and that’s the problem.” Jisung huffed before he climbed on top of Minho. Minho groaned then complained that Jisung was too heavy, but they both knew that Minho was lying. “Pay attention to me,” Jisung repeated as Minho’s hands wrapped around his waist. His hands slotted perfectly within the contours of Jisung’s body as if Jisung was made for him._

_“And why should I?” Minho couldn’t hide the smirk on his face._

_“Because you’re my best friend so you have to.”_

_Minho laughed at the cute pout on Jisung’s lips. “I don’t think that’s how it works, Princess.”_

_Minho laughed harder when the tips of Jisung’s ears turned red and the younger began to whine in protest. “Stop calling me that! You know I don’t like that nickname.”_

_The blush that was slowly taking over Jisung’s cheeks told Minho otherwise, but Minho already felt bad for not paying attention, so he decided to take pity._

_“I’m sorry,” Minho said genuinely and Jisung seemed to believe him. “What were you saying?”_

_Jisung cast his eyes downwards and didn't say anything for a moment. Worry spiked through Minho’s body because a quiet Jisung was never a good thing._

_Jisung’s hand on top of Minho’s chest started to draw obscure shapes and served as a distraction from Minho’s initial worry. The motion brought Minho’s attention to how different their bodies were, but it’s no surprise considering Jisung doesn’t spend all his time outside training as Minho did._

_Minho was becoming stronger and was quickly growing out of the awkward lankiness that came with random growth spurts during puberty. Minho’s baby fat was instead replaced by muscle developed by the long hours of training he routinely did in order to enhance his skills and be able to protect Jisung._ _Jisung was still a bit shorter than Minho and his cheeks were round and his arms twig-like despite the pushups he did daily, but Minho wouldn’t have it any other way. He found it endearing._

_“How’d you know that you didn’t have a preference?” Jisung mumbled finally._

_Minho laughed. “You’re going to have to be more specific than that. Preference for what?”_

_“For who you like.”_

_Minho’s laughter died in his throat when he noticed the vulnerable expression scrawled across Jisung’s youthful face. Removing a hand from Jisung’s waist, Minho propped onto an elbow as the other hand drew circles over Jisung’s hip bone subconsciously._

_“What brought this on suddenly?” Minho asked and tried to peer into Jisung’s eyes but the younger refused to make eye contact. The blush on his cheeks spread like wildfire._

_“It’s not sudden,” Jisung said before he began to nibble on his lower lip. Minho pulled the lip out from under his teeth before the tilted Jisung’s head up to look him in the eyes._

_With a deep breath, Minho spilled. “It was probably the night of your thirteenth birthday. Changbin kissed me.”_

_Jisung’s eyes widened at the new information before another pout was on his face. “He what?! I’ve known him all my life yet he never told me! I tell him all of my deepest, darkest secrets, so why can’t he?”_

_“Yeah,” Minho laughed again and Jisung’s cheeks redden more at the sound of it. “He’s pretty cute, not gonna lie, but he’s not my type. Irene kissed me under the mistletoe at the Christmas party last year.”_

_“She’s cute, too,” Jisung grumbled and he didn't look happy._

_“Yeah, she is. That’s when I realized that I don’t care if it's a guy or a girl .”_

_“Oh.” Jisung stopped drawing abstract shapes on his chest and instead opted to stare at the area between his pecs, deep in thought._

_“By the way,” Minho said, Jisung’s eyes peeked from under his lashes. “She’s not my type either.”_

_Jisung’s full attention snapped to Minho, who laid back down on the bed with a satisfied huff. Jisung’s bed was a lot more comfortable than his. “Then who is?” Jisung shot Minho a quizzical look._

_Minho hummed and closed his eyes. He pretended to be deep in thought, but that only earn himself a few playful slaps to the chest from Jisung when he took too long._

_Swallowing his laughter, Minho sobered and tried to fight the heat in his cheeks but was unsuccessful. “I like a certain person,” Minho trailed off only to burst into laughter when Jisung started to whine with impatience. “He looks vaguely like a squirrel with his chubby cheeks. He’s also annoying because he won’t let me read my dang book in peace and keeps insisting that I give him all of my attention.”_

_Minho cracked an eye open to see Jisung tilt his head to the side in confusion. Minho grinned at Jisung and he could pinpoint the exact moment Jisung realized that Minho was talking about him. His cheeks redden at a record-breaking speed and his mouth dropped open only to snap close then open once more._

_Minho expected Jisung to say something snarky back, but when the younger boy only ducked his head down and curled his small hands into even smaller fists around Minho’s black shirt, Minho quickly grew concerned._

_Jisung mumbled something but Minho didn't catch what he said._

_“What?”_

_“I said kiss me.” This time, Minho heard him loud and clear._

_Jisung finally tilted his head up and looked Minho straight into his soul with his striking green eyes. Minho adjusted himself onto his elbows as he stared right back._

_“Kiss me,” Jisung repeated with confidence Minho didn’t realize the boy had. Jisung moved his face closer to Minho’s, voice unwavering. Jisung didn’t break eye contact even if Minho could feel how Jisung was shaking atop of him._

_“Why?”_

_“Because I want to know if I feel the same.”_

_Minho was not expecting this outcome at all. He had planned to turn his confession into a joke, but Jisung didn’t respond the way Minho thought he would._

_As they stared at each other, nerves bouncing between the two of them like a shared electron, Minho decided to throw all caution to the wind._

_Placing firm hands onto Jisung’s waist, Minho flipped them over easily so that Minho had his arms planted on either side of Jisung’s face, successfully caging the younger boy in. The way Jisung’s body easily slotted between Minho’s legs scared Minho, but he forced the thought away. Now was not the time for such thoughts, especially when there was little to no space between them._

_“Are you sure?” Minho asked again and Jisung nodded tentatively. When he spoke; however, his voice was stable yet a mere whisper._

_“Do it. Kiss me.”_

_Minho lowered his face so that their breaths intermingled and their chests pressed together. Minho received a lungful of spring oranges and fresh mint. Not toothpaste mint, but the mint that grew in the royal garden and tasted like purity._

_They stared at each other for what seemed like centuries as Minho tried to find any single hint of hesitation in Jisung’s eyes, but he came up empty._

_When Minho leaned in to kiss Jisung, Jisung’s eyes fluttered closed and Minho couldn’t help but find it endearing._

_Minho took a deep breath before he dipped his head and their lips touched for less than a second. When he pulled back, Jisung’s eyes opened to see Minho pull away and roll to the other side of the bed._

_An indescribable coldness washed over Minho as he placed some much-needed distance between them and tried to clear his foggy mind._

_And with the distance between them, Minho concluded that he, Lee Minho, sixteen years of age, was a complete idiot._

_An idiot who shouldn’t have kissed Jisung and risked ruining their friendship._

_They have been best friends since they were children. They grew up together when Minho was brought to the castle when he was eight and had a sword thrust into his small hands and was told to protect Jisung like it was his own life. They learned the same curriculum together and even if Jisung was annoyed that Minho learned at a faster pace than him, they were still good friends and eventually became best friends from all the time they spent together. Hell, they even drew dicks on Chan’s sleeping face one time and got ten spanks each for that stunt but they did it together._

_Jisung had spent countless times gushing about the neighboring princess to Minho and how he would be honored to just hold her hand, let alone marry her. And in turn, Minho would sit still and listen to him like the good best friend he was even if his heart broke every time._

_They shouldn’t be doing this because Jisung was the crowned Prince and Minho was an orphan assigned to protect him._

_“See? It’s nothing. You’ll only feel something if you actually like the person.” When Jisung didn’t respond, Minho turned to see an offended look on the younger boy’s face._

_“Well, how do you know if I like you or not and how would I know if you don’t kiss me for real?” Jisung scowled and Minho nearly choked on his breath._

_“You just can’t!” Minho snarked back._

_“What’s wrong with it?” Jisung was getting angry and Minho did not like an angry Jisung._

_“You’re the prince and I’m no one, we don’t belong together.”_

_“You, Lee Minho, is a coward!” And with those bold words, Jisung crossed the short distance between them and reconnected their lips._

_Minho had kissed a few people (okay, just Changbin and Irene that one time, but he and Changbin had taught each other some valuable skills from the few times they’ve made out) but Jisung was a virgin in every way possible._

_So Jisung, who knew jack shit about kissing, kept his eyes screwed shut, his lips pursed on Minho’s, his entire body frozen in place._

_Minho was momentarily frozen as well since he would have never expected Jisung to have the courage to kiss him first, but Minho found himself pleasantly surprised. With a soft exhale, Minho melted and kissed Jisung for real._

_Well, perhaps a little more than a kiss, but Minho simply decided to just fuck it._

_Fireworks exploded behind his closed eyelids as Jisung eventually relaxed and followed Minho’s motions. Jisung turned out to be a surprisingly fast learner and soon, the younger boy had his tongue shoved down Minho’s throat and Minho couldn’t find any reason to complain._

_Their mouths were on each other for who knows how long until Minho pulled back. Jisung tried to chase after Minho, but Minho only chuckled and placed a stopping hand on Jisung’s shoulder._

_Both of their lips are red and swollen as they panted for air. “Slow down, we need to breathe,” Minho teased as he carded a hand through Jisung’s unruly hair._

_Jisung’s grin was wide and Minho found himself copying him. “Yeah, I think I know what my verdict is.”_

_Minho arched an eyebrow. “And what is it?”_

_“Lee Minho, I-“_

_Before Jisung could finish his sentence, a loud boom echoed right outside of Jisung’s room and caused the whole building to shake._

_“What’s going on?” Jisung asked and worry dripped from his words._

_Minho could only shrug before a scream pierced the air and goosebumps formed along his forearms._

_“I don’t know but we gotta get out of here.”_

_Minho’s body moved before his mind could process. He grabbed Jisung by the waist and practically carried Jisung over the window overlooking the garden. Taking a quick glance outside, Minho prayed that the bushes were enough to cushion Jisung's fall._

_Minho didn’t have any time to think of another way out before thunderous steps could be heard marching down the hallway. Minho’s eyes met Jisung and before he would regret anything, he pulled Jisung closer only to kiss him slowly but desperately in an effort to convey his feelings as best as he could._

_Minho pulled away just as the doors burst open and men in all black robes and crow masks stormed into the room, heading right towards them._

_“I’ll see you soon,” Minho said with sad eyes._

_“Do you promise?” Jisung’s eyes were wild with fear and Minho couldn’t help but compare him to a lost deer._

_“Of course. Be safe, Princess.” Minho managed to say but they both knew it was an empty promise. Without another word, he smashed the window open with his elbow and shoved Jisung through the gap._

_Minho could only watch as Jisung fell, hand outstretched and his name on his lips. But before Minho could see if Jisung made it safely below, a knife was plunged through his back. The last thing Minho was conscious of before he blacked out was a painful and loud cry._

  
  
  
  


Jisung woke up with a gasp, and just like everyone else, the first thing he did was cry. 

“Are you alright, Jisung?” Hyunjin asked as he handed him a juice box. 

Jisung took the drink gratefully before he slumped back against the chair. 

The tears didn’t stop when it started to dawn on Jisung how much he had lost because of his missing memory. Jisung had never really cared about not being able to recall the years from seven to fifteen, but now that he knew those years were spent with Minho, Jisung was angry. 

“Why didn’t you two tell me that we knew Minho years ago?” Jisung rounded onto Chan and Changbin even if he couldn’t see clearly with the tears that ran down his face. 

The two older boys only stared back in shock before they exchanged a glance. “You remember now?” Chan spoke up first. 

“Yes,” Jisung hissed and stood from the armchair. “Why did you keep this from me?” 

Changbin raised his hands in the air as if surrendering. “We couldn’t tell you. After we failed to bring your memories back, your dad told us to give up and to not tell you anything about it.”

“I think it was because he didn’t want you to have any connections to Minho,” Chan spoke up next with a slight frown on his face. “Probably because he was going to try to kill Minho one day.” 

“That and because he thought Minho made you weak.”

Jisung scoffed before he ran his hands through his hair as a way to calm his heart and stop the flow of tears, but he was only left with two handfuls of stress. Jisung thought that his father’s reasoning was complete bullshit. Minho didn’t make him weak, if anything Minho gave him the strength he needed to fight for what he thought was right, gave him a reason not to fail. 

Minho made Jisung stronger 

Jisung sighed and plopped back onto the chair. He stabbed his juice box and practically inhaled the orange juice. 

“Well, that’s dumb.” 

Jisung jumped when a new voice spoke up suddenly and watched with enlarged eyes as Minho rose from where he laid on the couch and rubbed the sleep from his eyes. 

“Did you hear everything?” Chan asked.

Minho nodded slowly before he took the juice box Seungmin offered. “Yeah, pretty much.” 

“What made their memory come back?” Hyunjin asked, eyes shooting between him and Minho. 

“When I transferred the memories from Minho to you, I have to essentially connect your neurons together then stimulate the cell in order for the memories to move. But when I tried to connect an older memory, I encountered a block.” Seohyun explained. 

“It’s like traveling in a car then encountering a roadblock.” Seungmin laughed at Jisung’s confused expression but the analogy Seungmin used made more sense than whatever Seohyun said. 

“The only difference is that there’s usually only one way the memories can travel, so unlike a road where you can take a different path, I had to push through.”

“And that triggered the memories to resurface?” Jeongin asked for clarification. 

Seohyun nodded. “Exactly.” 

“She cleared the road and the traffic jam- your memories- were able to get through,” Seungmin provided. 

Silence enveloped the group as they all tried to process what they had just experienced. It was an emotionally draining experience and Jisung’s brain felt like scrambled eggs, but he couldn’t imagine how drained Minho must’ve been when he carried the weight all by himself. 

“How are you feeling, Minho Hyung?” Felix asked.

Jisung turned to see Minho lift his head out of his hands. Dark circles shadowed Minho’s eyes but the older still smiled at Felix. “I’m alright, Lixie. Honestly, it feels like I was in a comatose state and my past experiences were just really bad nightmares.”

“Is that any better than before?” Chan asked tentatively. 

Minho debated for a second before he nodded. “Yeah, they’re easier to process and forget.”

Jisung wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, but it certainly sounded better than how he previously described his state of mind. 

“But enough about me,” Minho said with a slight shake of his head. “Were you all crying?” 

Hyunjin laughed sheepishly as the rest of them refused to make eye contact, bashful that they were called out on it. 

“Uh, well.”

“A little?”

“It’s Hyunjin’s fault.”

“Hey!” Hyunjin rounded onto Changbin with a playful glare. “You cried too!” 

Changbin sputtered. “Okay, but we all did so what's your point? You were the first to cry.” 

“That’s because I went first.” Hyunjin snarked back. 

Chan laughed and placed a hand on Changbin to prevent him from retorting. “Let’s be real, Jisung cried the hardest, that much we can agree on.” 

A chorus of agreement rang through the air and even Seohyun nodded. Heat crawled up the back of Jisung’s neck and bloomed across his cheeks as he tried to think of anything to save himself, but when his eyes met Minho’s, Jisung’s argument died on his tongue. 

A soft smile graced Minho’s lips and his mismatched eyes twinkled in amusement. 

Fuck, Jisung was so weak. Maybe his father was right, Minho did make him weak.

“I- well, so what? And?” Jisung crossed his arms over his chest and hoped his face wasn’t as red as it felt. 

He most likely wasn’t very successful at maintaining nonchalance because his friends erupted into laughter. Even if it was at the expense of his dignity, Jisung found that he didn’t mind it too much.

“You’re cute when you’re flustered.” Jisung heard Minho say right to his ear. Startled, Jisung turned only to be met with Minho’s face mere inches away. 

Minho closed the small distance between them by connecting their lips for less than two seconds, but it was enough to send Jisung into another blushing fit. 

“What the fuck?” One of their friends exclaimed but Jisung’s ears were ringing so he wasn’t sure who said it. “Did that actually happen?”

Minho just kissed Jisung right in front of all of their friends (and his mom.)

Overwhelmed with emotions, Jisung buried his face into the back of the couch and laughter rang all around him once again, but the most prominent voice (and the most important) was the one next to him. 

Minho was actually going to be the cause of Jisung’s death.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> while editing the chapter, I took a short break to watch Hyunjin's Criminal dance cover and came to the conclusion that Hyunjin dances just as dramatically as he is. (Which is a good thing, I swear. I love his dancing.)
> 
> ANy who, I hope you enjoyed! One chapter left!!!!!!   
> that's crazy!


	13. Sanguineous

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sanguineous: resembling or containing blood
> 
> Minho can no longer run away from the universe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And for the last time, I hope you enjoy :>
> 
> ♡

Minho squared his shoulders as he glared at Chan and a bead of sweat rolled down the elder’s temple. 

They both breathed hard as they watched each other closely. Training with each other had quickly become a healthy way for Minho to release some stress instead of internalizing it and Minho was forever thankful for Chan who had first brought the idea up. Chan was also an excellent sparring partner who constantly made Minho think on his toes, which was another reason why Minho enjoyed training with Chan. 

After another second, Minho lunged and sliced his right katana in a high arc only to meet Chan’s shield. Chan grunted under the force but before Chan could fight back, Minho swung his other katana and attacked relentlessly, alternating between the blades in each hand. 

Chan withstood his blows easily and waited for the right moment to attack. When that moment came, Chan shoved back when Minho swung forward, and caused Minho to fly backward. 

Using the remaining momentum, Minho flipped only to land in a crouched position. Their gazes met for a brief second, but Minho still saw the small look of confusion on Chan’s face when Minho grinned at the older. 

He lunged toward Chan but before his foot touched the ground, Minho was already transforming. A familiar sensation washed over Minho and if Chan’s widening eyes were anything to go off of, his transformation had been successful. 

Instead of his feet, paws hit the ground and Minho crossed the distance between them in half the amount of steps he would normally need. He raised a paw and swiped Chan’s shield out of his grasp. Before Chan could raise his sword, Minho stood on his hind legs and dropped his entire weight onto Chan. 

Chan grunted as Minho essentially went limp on top of him and they both fell onto the grass, Chan under Minho’s furry body. 

“Goddammit,” Chan swore as Minho began to transform back. Minho’s bones shifted and clicked back into place, his fur broke away into glowing, yellow dust, his body 

compressed into a human-like shape. 

Giving the older a sheepish smile, Minho offered Chan a hand once he got back on his feet. 

“Sorry, you’re too good. I have to use tricks if I want to win.” 

Chan laughed, his eyes crinkled. 

Before Chan could say anything, a boom, followed by loud cheers, interrupted their conversation. Startled and concerned, they both turned to the noise only to see Jeongin on his back and the others laughing their heads off. 

Both Minho and Chan sighed audibly and simultaneously. 

“Thank goodness for the sound barrier Seungmin made,” Chan said with fondness dusting his facial features. 

Minho had to agree that Seungmin’s device was pretty useful. It was only a small box with a crystal protruding from the top, but it was strong enough to prevent any sound from leaving the backyard. The device currently sat on the table between Seungmin and Jisung, the two previously had been discussing their shared interest in guns before the sudden boom. 

Jisung clutched his chest with wide eyes as Seungmin threw his head back and laughed wholeheartedly. Hyunjin and Felix, who squatted over some flowers, looked back at the commotion with a mixture of confusion and concern on their faces. When Minho made eye contact with them, he only shrugged. 

Changbin stood over Jeongin with a goofy half-smile on his face, Jeongin’s paperboy cap in his hand. 

“You alright, Jeongin?” Changbin asked when Minho and Chan stopped near Jeongin. “I didn't mean for it to be that strong.”

Jeongin nodded before he stood and dusted his pants off. “It’s alright. That was really fun actually.” 

When Hyunjin and Felix joined them, Felix immediately went to help the younger by removing stray blades of grass from the back of his head. 

“Aw poor Jeonginnie, are you okay?” Hyunjin said while checking to see if Jeongin was hurt anywhere with a dramatic flair. 

Jeongin rolled his eyes but let Hyunjin manhandle him. “Yeah, don’t worry.” He acted like he didn’t care but his ears fluttered with every touch.

Suddenly, a thought popped in Minho’s head. “Oh, by the way, Jeongin.”

“Hm?”

“I spoke to your mom a while ago.”

Jeongin froze in Hyunjin’s grasp when the elf moved Jeongin’s arm to get a look at his armpits for any possible danger, as everyone else gave their attention to Minho. 

“You mean the mom with the drug problem and the gambling addiction?” 

“Er- well, not quite.” Minho chuckled awkwardly. Was it his mom? His creator? Can otherworldly creatures even be female?

“Oh!” Jisung suddenly exclaimed, his eyes lighting up. “You mean back in Japan?”

Minho snapped his fingers. “Yeah, back then.”

“When did you two go to Japan?” Changbin asked with a dumbfounded expression. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Minho said with a nonchalant wave of his hand. “Anyway, I spoke to the person responsible for- uh- those.” Minho gestured to the ears atop of Jeongin’s head. 

“Right,” Jeongin trailed off. 

“She said something along the lines of you being her kin.” Minho honestly could not remember what she said. “She also said to ask Chan-Hyung for clarification?”

Chan blinked, a startled look on his face. “Wha- me?”

“Well, she also mentioned Seungmin by name but she said to ask you specifically.” 

“Well,” Chan scampered as he tried to think of why an all-powerful being would know him. 

“Wait,” Hyunjin held his hands out in the form of a T. “Who’s this _she_ that you’re talking about?” 

“I met a Kitsune in Japan, the one with nine tails when Jisung and I were on top of Mount. Fuji.” Minho explained with a shrug. 

The others, except for Jisung, gave him a weird look.

“Okay,” Changbin did not look convinced. 

“What the hell did you and Jisung get yourselves up to?” Hyunjin asked.

“I think we’re all missing the point that Hyung just said that Jeongin is a nine-tailed fox?” Felix’s deep voice said. 

“I’m a what now? I only have one tail!”Jeongin looked behind himself to prove his point. 

“Well, according to folklore, the older the kitsune, the more tails they have. I’m assuming you only have one because you’re young.” Seungmin’s eyebrows were pinched as he mulled over his thoughts. 

“Ah-ha!” Chan suddenly said, startling Hyunjin and Jisung. “I think I got it.”

“What?” Changbin asked. 

“The prophecy is about a group of less than ten people, right? We’re a group of eight.”

Minho did a quick headcount and confirmed that there were indeed eight of them. 

“Are you trying to imply that all eight of us are part of the stupid prophecy?” Changbin’s voice turned shrill at the end.

“You just realized?” Seohyun suddenly spoke up from where she leaned on the patio door. 

Jisung jumped in his seat before he whipped around. “How long were you there?” 

“Long enough.” She scoffed, “How have you children not put everything together by now?” 

“Er- well,”

“Honestly, no clue.”

“Especially you, Chan!” Seohyun shook her head in disappointment. “You’re an oracle for heaven’s sake.”

“Well, I think it’s pretty normal for oracles to assume that they’re not part of the prophecy,” Chan mumbled under his breath but Seohyun didn’t hear him.

“I mean, technically one is less than ten, so it could have been just Minho-Hyung,” Seungmin provided with a shrug. 

“Chan-Hyung said more than two but less than ten.” Minho sighed.

“Then you and Jisung and some other unlucky bastard.” Seungmin grinned when Minho gave him an unimpressed look.

With a fond groan, Seohyun produced an envelope from her back pocket and her expression morphed into something more serious. “Enough of that, this was left outside. It’s addressed to you, Jisung.” 

Surprised, Jisung took the envelope from her before he examined the blue wax seal. He ran a finger over his family crest before he tore it open and discarded the envelope in favor of the letter inside. 

The air around them stiffened as a cool breeze billowed past. Jisung’s face remained neutral as his eyes trailed further down the paper but his hands started to shake the more he read. 

When he finished reading the letter, the paper closest to Jisung’s hands was crinkled and his eyes were trembling. 

Slamming the letter onto the table, Jisung’s eyes found Minho’s, and it was enough for Minho to understand. 

Minho didn’t really feel anything besides acceptance. He knew that something was bound to happen, whether it was their move or the King’s, and Minho would be a fool to think that their lives would continue blissfully. 

“He knows we’re here.” Jisung huffed. He leaned back in his chair and tilted his head back. A cloud moved to block the sun and basked them in a new wave of cold. “He invited us next week at midnight to the castle to ‘finish things once and for all.’ “

“There has to be more than just that.” Changbin scoffed. 

“Of course there is. There’s the usual bluffing and degrading. Also, had some name-calling tossed in for a little extra kick. The usual father-son dynamic, ya know?” Jisung rolled his eyes and made a flippant gesture with his hand. “Oh, he also said to not try anything funny otherwise he’s going to burn half of the country to the ground.”

“He can’t do that, right?” Felix laughed nervously. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised if he did.” Changbin gritted his teeth and crossed his arms. “I’ve sat in some of the meetings my father and the King held, being the son of the royal adviser has its perks, I guess, and the King has wanted to do some extremely cruel things over some petty rumors.”

“He nearly killed my entire ethnicity,” Minho laughed drily. “He’s fucked enough in the head to do something idiotic like burning his own country to the ground. He’ll probably laugh as he does it.” 

“So what? There’s no other choice?” Hyunjin tugged on his dark strands, a scowl on his face. “We’re just going to play directly into his hands?”

They all shared a look with each other and came to a consensus without having to say anything. 

“There’s no other choice.” Seungmin looked close to snapping. 

“We’ll just be more prepared than he is,” Jeongin’s voice was steady as he looked each of them in the eyes as silent encouragement. 

Chan nodded and straightened his back. “Next week. We can do this.” Chan said with so much conviction Minho almost believed him. Almost. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The next few days were a blur to Minho. 

He spent a lot of time with Seohyun as she tried her best to understand Minho’s fears and to help ease the constant anxiety that thrummed through his veins. It had been useful and a fairly painless process, especially with all the support from his friends, but it was still difficult. 

It would be simply impossible for Minho to process his trauma within a short amount of time, but Seohyun’s magic from a few days ago had helped to cushion the pain that Minho had grown numb to even if Seohyun told him the blissfulness won’t last forever. 

Despite learning how to ignore the pain that Minho carried for years, there was still a very noticeable weight off his shoulders. Minho didn’t realize how much pain he had been before and now that he knew what it was like to be a little freer, even if temporary, Minho wanted more- he wanted it to be permanent. 

Healing was a strenuous and irregular path, but Minho would be damned if he gave up. He had people that he can’t disappoint. 

As of late, Minho’s previous fears and worries seemed unimportant as the week slowly but eventually came to an end. His mind was instead plagued with the stress of what the inevitable was going to bring. 

All he could do to somewhat ease the nerves in his body was to remember the plan that they'd come up with. He replayed it in his mind constantly and he was sure it was the main reason why he couldn’t sleep at night. The other reason might have something to do with the honey-brown-haired boy who Minho was forced to share a bed with, but Minho chose to ignore that thought. 

Even now, as Minho knocked Changbin’s staff from his hands then turned to halt his blade inches away from Chan’s neck, Minho couldn’t stop thinking of the plan. 

Returning his katanas to their scabbard, Minho wiped the sweat from his forehead. “Are you sure we’re prepared?” 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow was the day Minho was going to die or the day he killed the King. 

Chan gave him a pitiful smile while Changbin groaned playfully. “Yes, Minho. Everything is flushed out. You know this yourself, you were there when we made it.” 

Minho shrugged. He was there when they spent an entire two days flushing out the plan and barely gave themselves any time to sleep or eat. Those days in particular were ingrained into Minho’s brain. 

“Doesn’t hurt to ask.”

“Yes, it does.” Changbin gave him a pointed glare but Minho shrugged it off. 

“Stop arguing and let’s clean up. It’s getting late.” Chan gave them each a pat on the shoulder before he left to put his sword and shield away. “Plus it looks like it’s going to rain.”

Chan was right; thick clouds, grey with rain, appeared to cover the sunset. Minho found it merely fascinating how the bright colors of the sky were able to shine past the clouds no matter how heavy they may seem.

Minho didn’t move from his spot even when Changbin had long left and the first sign of rain began to show itself. 

Minho didn’t feel the first few drops but after a while, the rain started to cascade all around him. He didn’t flinch when the cool water soaked through his shirt nor did he care. For the first time in a long time, Minho felt like he could breathe, like the rain was washing his burdens away.

“Oi!” Felix’s deep voice boomed and startled Minho from his train of thought. “Are you going to stare at the sky all day or are you going to come in?” 

Minho laughed but he knew the younger boy wouldn’t be able to hear it over the relentless downpour. 

When Minho squeezed past Felix to step back inside with his rain-soaked socks, Hyunjin gave him a glare as he thrust a towel in his direction. “You’re getting everything wet.”

Minho took the towel gratefully but not before flicking water at the elf, who only shrieked as he flinched away. Laughing once more, Minho tossed the towel over his head to dry his hair. 

“Everyone! Ginor- oh fuck.” 

Jisung ran into the living room hurriedly, but soon stopped in his tracks. Minho didn’t really get why until he moved the towel from his face and found Jisung staring at him. 

“What?” Minho asked while someone tried to cover their laughter with a cough. “Something wrong with me?” Taking a quick glance down to see if something was out of place, Minho had to fight back his own laughter when he realized what had stolen Jisung’s attention. 

Minho’s wet white shirt clung to his body and was nearly translucent. 

“Ahem, nothing.” Jisung coughed. “Ginora-Noona sent us her response.” 

“You’re blushing,” Jeongin snickered behind a hand. 

“Am not!” Jisung hissed back. “Anyway, here it is.” Jisung raised a letter in the air but it was blank. 

“There’s nothing on it.” Chan pointed out.

“No, it’s not- oh my God, it’s blank.” Jisung flipped the letter over only to be met with nothing. 

“Wait, I know what this is!” Seungmin said suddenly before he snatched the letter from Jisung’s grasp. 

The innocent off-white paper fluttered in the air and before anyone else could utter another word, Seungmin held the letter over the burning candle on the coffee table. Without a second to spare, the flame consumed the whole paper. 

Everyone froze as nothing happened and the smile slipped from Seungmin’s face. 

“Seungmin,” Jisung began with a low voice, “what did you- oh fuck!” 

Surprising all of them, the flame erupted as if a dragon had bellowed in anger. It rapidly grew in size until the tiny candle flame morphed into a large replica of Ginora’s face. 

The heat licked their faces and Minho could swear the water evaporated from his body at a remarkable speed. Their shadows danced along the walls as her face stared them down, her crown rested delicately between the strands of hair on her forehead. 

“Greetings to all,” Ginora began with a tight-lipped smile. “To keep things short, I will say quickly that I hope that this letter receives you well and that I’ve received your word, Jisung. I’ll meet you at the place you specified when the sun kisses the sea. My people will be waiting for you.” 

When Ginora finished her message, the flame flickered for a second before it swizzled back to its original size and Minho’s clothes were no longer wet. His skin felt dry as Minho struggled to take in everything that was said. It wasn’t much, but it made his brain itch. 

“When the sun kisses the sea?” Minho glanced at the others to see if anyone else was confused but he found that he was alone.

“Sunrise, duh.” Hyunjin rolled his eyes playfully. 

“Was I supposed to know that?” 

“Yes.”

Minho sighed exasperatedly but dropped it in favor of giving Jisung his attention. “Is Ginora-Noona going to bring more of her pirate friends?” 

The younger rolled his eyes and playfully flicked Minho’s forehead. Minho barely blinked at the action. “They’re merchants, Minho, _merchants_.”

Copying Jisung, Minho rolled his eyes and was going to tease the younger more, but he suddenly became all too aware of how quiet it was in the room. Giving the others a quick glance, he realized that most of them were doing their own last-minute preparations while giving him wary glances. 

Something uncomfortable settled in the pit of Minho’s stomach as he realized how cautious the others were in regard to him and Minho found that he absolutely did not appreciate it. He was the same Minho as he always had been so why were they suddenly treating him differently? 

Wanting to get away from the weird atmosphere, Minho announced that he was retiring early for the night. He didn’t like how the others were acting like one wrong word would send Minho tumbling down a staircase of despair especially when Minho had accepted his fate since there was nothing he could do to avoid it. 

Using sleep as an excuse, Minho fled the room and prepared for bed, but Minho knew he wasn’t going to get a single ounce of shut-eye. 

He proved himself correct when three hours passed and he still stared at the white ceiling and listened to the soft thuds of rain on the roof.

The door opened and Minho heard the soft patter of naked feet on wood before the other side of the small bed dipped. There was a delicate scent of spring oranges and fresh mint mixed with a bit of rose and Minho sighed a small sigh of content.

“Oh? Are you awake?” Jisung murmured. When Minho didn’t respond, the younger leaned over him and smiled when their eyes connected. “Caught ya.”

Minho shook his head. “I’m not hiding.” 

“Then why didn’t you respond?” His smile stretched to a shit-eating grin.

“I was thinking.” Minho rolled his eyes playfully and the younger laughed at his antics. 

Minho rose to a sitting position as Jisung adjusted himself so that they were face to face. Jisung’s gaze softened, and even in the dim light, Minho could see the worry in his beautiful eyes. 

Minho didn’t think he was nervous or even scared, he just felt numb. But it appeared as if Jisung knew him better than he did when the younger slid onto his lap and pulled Minho into a comforting embrace.

Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck and played with the hair located at the base of his skull. Minho released a shaky breath and imagined his stress leaving his body with the air before he pulled Jisung as close as he could without hurting the younger. Burying his face into the crook of Jisung’s neck, Minho breathed in the familiar scent and wished that time would stop for just a second or two. 

Jisung’s hand-pulled roughly on Minho’s hair strands and invoked a low groan from Minho. Jisung chucked before he began to kiss down the column of Minho’s neck. Running his hands over the expanse of Jisung’s back, Minho tried to commit every dip and curve to memory. 

When Jisung’s lips found their way to Minho’s clavicle, Jisung suddenly bit down hard, causing Minho’s eyes to snap open and his hands to grip harshly onto Jisung’s hips. But when the younger licked over the bite then proceeded to suck a mark, Minho’s startled cry quickly turned into a drawn-out moan. 

Without removing his lips from Minho’s shoulder, Jisung rolled his hips down and Minho’s breath caught in his throat. _Fuck_.

A million panic-stricken thoughts filtered through Minho’s mind but they were quickly forgotten when Jisung moved away from Minho’s shoulder and gently cupped his face between his hands. They stared at each other for a brief second and Minho might’ve fallen in love all over again. 

Jisung, with his cheeks a lovely shade of red and his dilated pupils, looked absolutely breathtaking under the light of the waning moon. His lips glistened in the light, slick with saliva, and Minho wanted them on his. 

And he got what he wanted. 

Plush lips were on his and their not-so-innocent movements sent waves of heat to the pit of his stomach. Jisung’s hands trailed down his neck, across his shoulders, then down his arms, only to grab a hold of his hands. With a gentle tug, Jisung moved Minho’s hands from his hips to his ass.

Minho didn’t need to be told twice what to do. Giving Jisung’s ass a rough squeeze, Minho was rewarded with Jisung’s melodic moan. Wanting to hear more, Minho moved to kiss down Jisung’s neck and continued to feel the younger until Jisung rolled his hips once more. 

Pleasure rippled through his body and left stars behind his eyes. Desire flared through Minho’s body as Jisung continued to grind against Minho, but it wasn’t enough. 

Grabbing the younger’s waist, Minho flipped them so that he pinned Jisung under his body. Jisung made a small noise of surprise when he hit the soft mattress, but that quickly turned into a groan when Minho reached between them to palm his length over his pants. 

Jisung’s nimble fingers trailed down his spine and sent shivers throughout Minho’s body. When he reached the bottom hem of Minho’s shirt, Jisung slipped his hands under and explored Minho’s broad back. His fingers dipped into the groves at the base of Minho’s spine and trailed the old scars crisscrossing his back. 

Minho broke away and slipped from Jisung’s touch. Minho could clearly see the protest forming on the younger’s tongue, but it quickly died when Minho pulled off his shirt in one smooth motion. 

Jisung’s chest rose and fell in sync with Minho’s as he licked his kiss-swollen lips. Jisung propped on his forearms before he reached with a trembling hand. Placing his palm flat on Minho’s chest, Jisung began to trace one of the many scars on Minho’s torso. 

It wasn’t the first time Jisung had seen them, but the delicate expression on his face was new. “What happened?” Jisung murmured before he flicked his eyes up and met Minho’s gaze. Jisung looked at Minho as if Minho was a complex secret that only he knew, but for Minho, Jisung was the answer to everything important in the world. 

Minho could only watch as Jisung’s eyebrows pinched close together and his featherlight touches fluttered across Minho’s body. The newer scars, like the slash across his left ribs, were from missions where Minho had made careless mistakes. But the older ones, like the round cigarette burns splattered across his abdomen or the pale parallel lines near his hip that were too straight to be an accident, those were from times Minho would rather forget about. 

Minho had never been ashamed of the numerous scars on his body, nor did he care about how they looked, but he preferred to ignore them as if they never existed because they reminded him of things he hated. But with the way Jisung tenderly touched him with the utmost care, as if he wasn’t a failure, like Minho was someone who had conquered his inner demons and lived to tell the tale, filled the hollow weight in his chest. 

As if it belonged there all this time, Jisung’s hands fell to grab the sides of Minho’s torso, thumb gently running along an old scar there. It was perplexing to Minho how well Jisung’s hands seemed to fit against the contours of Minho’s body. Perhaps, they were handcrafted by a transcendental being to be the perfect fit for each other and each other only. 

The atmosphere was delicate in a way Minho had never experienced before and something foreign, but not unwelcomed, tugged at Minho’s heartstrings.

Pulling Jisung’s hand away from his body, Minho brought the Prince’s hand to his lips and kissed the pads of each finger before moving to kiss Jisung’s palm then down his forearm. The butterfly kisses left Jisung squirming from impatience under Minho’s weight. 

“I’ll tell you some other time,” Minho whispered before he kissed the inside of Jisung’s elbow. 

“You have to,” Jisung said between a gasp when Minho kissed the underside of Jisung’s upper arm. “I bet you have a lot of stories.” Minho kissed the top of Jisung’s shoulder and pinned him to the bed with his body. 

“They’re not that interesting,” Minho mumbled against Jisung’s warm skin before he sucked a hickey at the base of Jisung’s exposed neck. 

If Jisung was going to say something, the words were lost when he moaned in Minho’s ear and jutted his hips to chase friction. 

Minho gave the younger a breathy laugh before he held Jisung’s hips down, much to Jisung’s clear annoyance. 

“Minho,” Jisung pleaded, and God- Minho loved the way his name rolled off of Jisung’s tongue. “Do something already.” 

“Do what?” Minho held back a smirk when Jisung’s face flushed a deeper shade of red at the question. 

“Literally anything.” 

Deciding to take pity on the younger, Minho eased on the teasing. “Fine, but let’s get out of this first.”

Before Jisung could say anything else, Minho pulled Jisung’s shirt off to reveal his smooth torso. Minho relished in the way Jisung’s blush colored the upper half of his chest and how Jisung’s chest looked like a blank canvas. 

“What are you thinking of?” 

Minho almost missed the question, too busy admiring how beautiful Jisung was. Dragging his eyes slowly over the younger, Minho responded. “Just thinking of how much I want to cover you in hickeys. You’ll look even more beautiful with my marks on you.” 

Jisung sputtered something incoherent as Minho’s eyes reached the thin hair disappearing below Jisung’s pants. Instead of straddling the younger’s waist, Minho moved between his legs and prompted Jisung to raise his hips so Minho could remove his pants and underwear. 

And once they were off and thrown somewhere, Minho had to take a second to just _appreciate_ the beauty that was Han Jisung. 

“Stop staring at me,” Jisung mumbled as he peeked from behind his fingers. 

A chuckle, light and airy, left Minho’s kiss-swollen lips as he began to trace Jisung’s Adonis belt idly. Reaching for the bedside table, Minho opened the drawer and blindly searched for the only item in there. 

When he found it, he held it up for Jisung to see. The thick, transparent liquid moved slowly in the vial as it ran down the glass. 

Tossing it aside for a brief second, Minho pulled down his own pants and undergarment and discarded it somewhere on the floor, Minho didn’t care where exactly. Popping the lid open, Minho poured a generous amount onto his fingers. The vial joined the clothes on the floor as Minho warmed the lube and tossed one of Jisung’s leg over his waist. 

Minho met Jisung’s viridescent eyes. “Have you done this before?” 

Jisung nodded slowly. “It was a while ago, though.” 

“I’ll be gentle,” Minho said before he planted his lips onto Jisung and began to press his middle finger to the younger’s entrance. Jisung winced at the foreign sensation. “Just breathe, Sungie. Breathe for me.” 

To help make the process easier, Minho reached between their bodies to grab Jisung’s dick and gave it a few strokes. The distraction worked when Jisung reacted strongly to it, his voice needy yet sweet as he arched his back for more. 

Once Jisung had relaxed around Minho’s finger, Minho pushed the rest of his finger in and relished in the way a breathy gasp left Jisung. He clamped his teeth onto Minho’s shoulder, licking and sucking after the initial bite. The sting sent Minho a full-body shiver as he started to pump his finger in and out. 

A broken sound left Jisung as Minho found a particularly sensitive area. The noise sent a wave of heat directly to Minho’s gut and Minho had to take a second to calm himself down before he lost control. 

Minho slipped another finger in, then another, making sure to rub against the delicate bundle of nerves. Moving lower to Jisung’s chest, Minho left the marks he promised until he reached his nipple. Taking the bud into his mouth, Minho swirled his tongue around it and Jisung’s hands found their way to Minho’s hair with another gasp. 

Jisung was a moaning mess under Minho, desperately trying to get some sort of friction as Minho pinned him to the bed with a hand to his hip. Jisung’s toes curled and the bedsheets rustled as Jisung slowly came apart. Minho thought it was one of the most gorgeous things in the world. 

“M-Minho,” Jisung’s voice came out raspy and needy and perfectly. 

“Hm?” Minho questioned almost distractedly. He moved to the other nipple to give it attention too, which caused Jisung to twitch and arch his back with sharp intake. 

Warm, soft hands grasped Minho’s head and suddenly plush lips were on his. “I want you in me,” Jisung murmured with shy eyes and flushed cheeks. Minho nodded once then kissed Jisung long and slow before he broke away to fulfill his promise.

“Just so you know, I don’t have any disease,” Minho said as he withdrew with fingers and wiped the excess lube on the sheets. 

“Okay.”

“And I want you to- hey, are you listening to me?” Minho held back a laugh when it was clear that Jisung was clearly distracted. “Stop staring at my dick and listen to me.” 

Jisung jumped slightly. “Sorry, but can you blame me for being distracted?” 

Minho rolled his eyes before he got serious and he pushed Jisung’s legs further apart. “I guess not. Just don’t forget that you can tell me to stop whenever and tell me whatever you need, okay?” 

“I know, I trust you.” 

Satisfied with Jisung’s answer, Minho pushed in slowly and let out a low string of curses. The feeling of Jisung was enough to knock Minho’s breath away and the raw feeling of skin on skin sent tingles all the way to the tip of Minho’s fingers to his toes. 

Jisung pulled Minho in for a sloppy kiss as Minho bottomed out and Jisung looped his arms around Minho’s neck. Minho forced himself to still his movements in order for Jisung to get used to the stretch even if all he wanted to do was fuck into him until Jisung was screaming his name. 

“Fuck, Jisung,” Minho sighed and left fleeting kisses to any skin he could reach. 

“What?” Jisung asked between shaky breaths. 

“You feel so good around me,” Minho whispered into Jisung’s ear before he nipped the younger’s earlobe and caused Jisung to shudder from under him.

“Don’t say that. It’s embarras-“ Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho pulled out, leaving just the tip, before he pushed back in and hit Jisung’s prostate with accuracy. A broken moan escaped Jisung’s lips as a sudden shock of pleasure rippled through his body. Minho smashed his lips against Jisung’s in an attempt to keep the younger quiet. 

The bed creaked, Jisung fell apart, and Minho’s world aligned. Everything felt right for once and Minho was overwhelmed with an intense feeling besides pleasure, but Minho wasn’t sure what it was. 

Jisung’s legs trembled and he dragged his nails down the expanse of Minho’s back, most likely leaving angry red streaks. The noises Jisung produced spurred Minho on and Minho could no longer care if anyone heard them because the sounds were music to Minho’s ears. Beautiful, breathy, and desperate. Minho loved it. 

If someone could hear them, then so be it. Let it be known how well Minho fucked Jisung and how he was able to reduce Jisung to a moaning mess, after all, it was his name that was being chanted like a prayer. Minho almost wanted people to hear how well he treated Jisung.

Jisung’s warm mouth was suddenly on Minho’s neck and he sucked another hickey to add to the growing collection. The addition of the new sensation was almost enough to make Minho cum then and there, but Minho gritted his teeth and forced himself to keep going. 

“Fuck,” Jisung gasped and wrapped his legs around Minho’s torso. Jisung’s dick was trapped between their bodies and Minho could feel the pre-cum smear across his abdomen. 

“Jisung, I’m close,” Minho said with a grunt as he desperately chased the pleasure. 

Jisung only whimpered in Minho’s ear and reached to find purchase in the older boy’s hair. “M-me too.” 

Reaching under the Prince, Minho pulled Jisung up with him and onto his lap to change positions. They both let out a moan when Minho’s dick sank deeper into Jisung. 

Jisung’s eyes were unfocused and glassy from unshed tears as Minho gripped his waist and thrust into him. 

“Minho, I’m close. I’m so close.” Jisung squeezed even closer to Minho, his dick rubbed between them as Jisung bounced atop of Minho. 

“I know, my love. I know,” Minho whispered into Jisung’s sweet skin.

Jisung choked out a broken sob as Minho increased the pace with a breathy grunt. Jisung’s nails dug into Minho’s back as he sobbed, pleaded, begged for Minho to give him what he so desperately needed. 

Minho would be an idiot if he didn’t give Jisung what he wanted. 

A scorching heat suddenly flared through Minho’s body as the coil in his stomach tightened. His heart hammered in his chest and the heat walked the thin line between painful and pleasurable, but Minho pushed past it. He was so close.

Jisung’s body tensed before he came with a cry in the form of Minho’s name and painted their abdomens with his warm discharge. The tense coil in Minho snapped and he came a second after with a drawn-out moan, his vision white. 

Static filled Minho’s mind as his chest heaved. It took him a minute for him to be able to process their heavy pants as sweat dripped down his back. Jisung nestled his head into the crook of Minho’s neck, his breath fanned over Minho’s collarbones, and Minho carded a hand through the younger’s hair. 

“How do you feel?” Minho asked after a moment or two, his heartbeat still raced. 

“Besides the cum on my stomach and the sweat on my body, pretty good.” Jisung laughed and Minho chuckled as he massaged the base of Jisung’s spine. Jisung was going to be sore tomorrow. 

“Wait until you feel what’s between your legs.” A shit-eating grin stretched across Minho’s face as Jisung groaned. 

Carefully, Minho removed himself out of Jisung and laid the younger boy back onto the bed, his eyes were still closed. Minho watched as his seed slowly seeped out of Jisung and onto the sheets. 

Seohyun was going to kill them but Minho didn’t care. He couldn’t when Jisung looked like Adonis reincarnated with the hickeys splattered across his chest, his face flushed, and his hair messy. 

A small smile stretched across Minho’s face as he dragged his hand up Jisung’s torso and relished in the way Jisung quivered under his touch. 

Minho’s heart felt impossibly full to see Jisung marked up because of him. They were his claim that the Prince was his. 

The delicate atmosphere around them was like a comforting blanket wrapped around Minho’s exposed skin and the silence, save for their breathing, was claiming. Minho’s fingers continued to dance along Jisung’s skin but when Minho reached the younger’s heart, he froze and struggled to understand the sight before him. 

“Jisung, what the fuck is this?” 

Startled, Jisung’s eyes snapped open and he propped on his elbows. His eyes widened when he looked at Minho before he glanced down to see his chest. 

As if his skin was translucent, Jisung’s heart glowed like it was made of liquid gold. The arteries connecting to the organ pulsed with light too, but as Minho watched, the light slowly diminished until everything was back to normal. 

“You have it too,” Jisung mumbled. 

Looking down to his own chest, Minho caught the last remnants disappearing under his skin, but his confusion multiplied by a tenfold. 

“Does it hurt?” Minho ran a hand over the younger’s heart. 

“No, did it hurt you?” 

Minho shook his head. “I have no idea what that was- oh wait.” Minho trailed off as a lightbulb suddenly lit in his head. “Could it be the blessing that we were supposed to receive on Mount. Fuji?” 

Jisung stared at him, mouth agape and eyes scrutinous, until a lightbulb also went off in his head. “No way.”

“Maybe Yuta-Hyung was right after all,” Minho mumbled more to himself. 

A dumbfounded silence lapsed over them as they both tried to process the information through their post-sex hazed mind. Minho knew he should be slightly worried or at least more concerned than he currently was, but he couldn’t really find a single ounce of care when Jisung laid back and splayed across the bed like a Greek god. 

“Well, it doesn’t matter. It already happened, let’s just sleep.” Jisung made grabby hands toward Minho and Minho swooned at the sight. 

“We should clean up first.” Minho dragged his eyes over Jisung, his cum had already dried. 

“Too lazy, let’s just do it in the morning.” Jisung pulled Minho down and immediately wrapped his limbs around Minho, successfully caging him in. 

Minho laughed against the crown of Jisung’s head as the younger snuggled impossibly closer. “You’re going to regret it.”

“Whatever,” Jisung mumbled. “That’s a problem for future Jisung. Present Jisung wants to sleep.” 

“Fine. What Jisung wants, Jisung gets.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho was right, Jisung did regret it. 

Jisung complained when they woke up that his body hurt, Jisung complained when Minho helped the younger clean up in the bathroom, Jisung complained when they were all eating breakfast together even though it was too early to be considered breakfast. 

“We get it,” Changbin hissed from across the table. “Minho fucked you good, we all heard you two last night.” 

Seungmin laughed around his bagel. ”You’re just jealous because they had sex once yet it’s more action than your entire sex life.” 

Minho choked back his laughter when Changbin spun in his seat to glare at the younger. “You-“

“Alright, kids, it’s time to go.” Seohyun appeared from the front door, unaware of their conversation. “Grab your stuff.” 

Minho shoved one last spoonful of rice into his mouth, even if he didn’t have the appetite for it, before he grabbed his katanas and slung them on. 

When Minho reached the door, Seohyun met his gaze. Her expression, for the first time since he met her, softened. 

“Thank you for all that you’ve done to help us,” Minho said sincerely. Seohyun was the backbone and support that they needed

Seohyun shook her head. “No need to thank me, just come back alive. That will be enough.” 

Giving her one final nod, Minho brushed past her and breathed in a lungful of air. The residual rain from last night fell in the form of sprinkles and the heavy grey clouds were still low in the sky. The cold air nipped at Minho’s nose and tousled his hair but Minho barely processed the discomfort. 

A black vehicle greeted them outside, the engine purred softly with a puff of smoke. A familiar man sat in the driver’s seat and rolled down the window when he found Minho’s gaze on his. 

“Hey, I’m back.” The man said, his stark white eyes twinkled with mirth. 

Minho opened the back door before he slid in. “Another favor for Granny?” 

The man shook his head. “No, this time I offered.” Their gaze found each other in the mirror and Minho couldn’t find any hint of a lie. 

Before Minho could respond, the rest of them slid into the vehicle and the man began to drive. 

“Oh Minho,” Chan suddenly said from beside him. “This is for you.” A vial, about the length of his palm, was thrust into his hand. The dark blue liquid inside of it swooshed. “It’ll help with the seasickness,” was all he said as an explanation. 

Minho nodded his thanks as he turned it over. “I forgot you’re experienced in apothecary.” 

Chan laughed, unoffended. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


They reached the sea right on time. The sun climbed its way up to the parted rain clouds and overtook the world with its brilliant shine. The sky rippled with color as the wind blew sand and gravel over their shoes and the water kissed the beach. 

Jisung stopped next to Minho as they watched the horizon for any sign of their friends. 

“Where are they?” Minho asked no one in particular.

Jisung shrugged. “They’ll be here soon.” 

And sure enough, a large ship appeared from the horizon and a wide grin stretched over Jisung’s face. Soon after the first ship, several more began to appear beside the first. There were enough to be considered an entire fleet.

“She wasn’t kidding about bringing her people.” Minho heard Hyunjin mumble. 

“They’re late,” Minho grumbled before he popped the cork off the vial Chan gave him. 

When the ships anchored in the deeper water and sent out the dinghies, Minho tilted his head back and poured the liquid down his throat then discarded the vial by tossing it aside. It stung as it made its way down his throat, but Minho barely felt it.

Minho ignored the eyes on him when they boarded the small dinghy and sailed over the choppy waters. There were hundreds of sailors and Minho wasn’t even sure if he had ever seen this many people in one place. 

“I told you, they’re pirates,” Minho mumbled to Jisung. 

Jisung sighed. “They’re _merchants_ , Minho, not pirates.” 

“What kind of merchant has this many friends?” 

“A friendly and socially-adequate merchant.” 

Minho ignored the younger in favor of watching the tall, dark-haired woman with the ornate gold headpiece. Ginora watched him back as the chains attached to the dinghy and lifted them. 

“Welcome back,” Ginora said with a soft smile as Jisung climbed aboard.

“Feels good to be back,” Jisung returned the smile. 

It wasn’t before long that the large ship began to glide across the water and follow the route it was destined for. It would take them half a day to make a wide path around the coast of Korea to reach the northern side of the country. 

Water sprayed across his face and chest as the boat cut through the ocean effortlessly. It was a beautiful sight, but as Minho stood at the side of the hull, his thoughts whirled through his mind and left his heart racing. Minho could only try to quell the anxiety that clawed at his chest as he realized that so many different aspects of their plan could fall apart easily and Minho didn’t want to take any chances especially since he has a lot to lose. 

When the sun began to touch the apex of the sky, a body slid next to his and a warm voice began to speak. 

“What are you thinking of?” Jisung asked. 

Minho didn’t answer right away, too busy trying to sort his disorganized thoughts to form an answer. “Nothing in particular,” Minho opted to respond with. 

Jisung hummed lightly. “You’re worried, aren’t you? You have that look on your face.”

“I don’t have a look,” Minho scoffed but the younger sent him a gaze that made Minho second guess if he actually did. “Yeah, I’m a bit worried,” he confessed. 

“About what exactly?” 

Minho shrugged noncommittally. “Felix is vulnerable when he attacks, what if he’s better to be medical support? You know he’s good at it.”

“Yes, he is, but Hyunjin will be there to provide defense. They’re both extremely powerful, they can take care of themselves.” 

“Okay, but what about Chan-Hyung? He’s a pacifist, he shouldn’t have to fight.” 

Jisung’s eyes grew fond as Minho continued to spit out whatever concerns he had. “Channie-Hyung said he’ll be alright as long as he doesn’t have to actually kill them.”

“Yes, but he shouldn’t have to strain his morals just because of me.”

Jisung sighed but he didn’t seem upset. “He’s doing it because he wants to. There are a plethora of reasons as to why he’s willing to help you and those same reasons are why he’s adjusting his morals.” 

Minho didn’t say anything and Jisung sighed once more. The guilt was still heavy on Minho’s chest, but it was a bit lighter. 

“Here, let me help get your mind off of things.” Jisung threaded his fingers through Minho’s before he tugged Minho away from the rails and to the middle of the hull, right next to the mainmast. 

“What are you thinking of?” Minho returned the question as a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. 

Jisung only hummed before he pulled Minho closer and placed Minho’s hand on his waist. Jisung’s left hand fell onto Minho’s right shoulder as Jisung held their conjoined hands a little bit above their shoulders. 

“Is this the time to be dancing?” Minho laughed and Jisung smiled back. Jisung’s eyes fluttered shut before he tugged them around the hull and hummed a nameless tune under his breath as they narrowly missed tripping over cords and crates. 

Minho let Jisung sweep him around and only served as the younger’s eyes by gently tugging them into another direction when Jisung was about to turn into the mast or the rails. 

They were in their own little world as they spun and twirled across the deck. Jisung laughed between his humming when they ran into a sailor and laughed harder when Minho let go of Jisung’s waist and let the younger spin away only to spin back into his arms with a tug. 

They ended at the bow of the ship as Minho dipped Jisung with a dramatic flourish, Jisung’s laughter twinkled throughout the air and Minho’s heart skipped a beat. 

“Thanks for the dance,” Jisung said through his giggles. 

Minho couldn’t help but return the gesture with his own chuckles. “My pleasure.” 

Jisung wrapped his arms around Minho’s neck when Minho pulled the younger into a standing position. Minho found Jisung’s waist once again as if his hands were meant to be there all along. 

“Do you remember when we learned how to dance when we were younger?” Jisung asked suddenly.

Minho’s eyebrows shot to his hairline as the memory resurfaced. It had taken them some time for all of their lost memories to come back, but when it did, it certainly explained a lot. One thing it explained was why Minho loved dancing. 

“Yeah, I do. You were jealous that I was better than you at it.” 

Jisung rolled his eyes. “You were better than me at almost everything, so of course I was jealous. Didn’t help that you couldn’t even dance at parties. What’s the point of learning if you can’t use it?” 

“Well, it prepared me for this moment.” 

“Right, and dancing on a merchant’s ship is an everyday occurrence.” 

Minho shrugged as Jisung sighed and rested his head against Minho’s sternum. They began to sway back and forth as Minho took his turn to hum a nameless tune. 

“After all of this,” Minho began as his mouth suddenly ran dry. “If everything goes well, of course, would you let me dance with you at parties?” 

Jisung suddenly stilled and Minho’s heart began to increase in speed. When the younger pulled away, Minho couldn’t help but wish he kept his mouth shut. He felt too vulnerable and he couldn’t read Jisung’s expression.

Slowly, a disbelieving smile stretched across Jisung’s face and his beautiful viridescent eyes began to twinkle. “I won’t dance with anyone else unless I dance with you first.” 

“Then it’s a promise.” 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


The gravel crunched under Minho’s favorite steeled-toed boots as if he were walking over the bones of the undead. A chill ran down Minho’s spine despite the setting sun at his back. 

The first castle of the Han legacy barely peaked over the tall spindly trees. Despite the fact that Minho could barely see it, Minho could tell that it was in a serious state of disrepair. No one had occupied the castle for decades since the family had moved to the current castle in favor of being farther from China’s borders. Jisung mentioned earlier that his father had chosen the place because of its isolated location and because his father was apparently sentimental. Killing his sworn enemy in the place he grew up in was how the King expressed his sentimentalism. 

The sailors ran around Minho and carried various crates and bags into the dense forest. To Minho, they resembled an army of worker ants. 

Ginora sloshed through the shallow water with Jisung and the others right behind her heel. Jisung’s usually easy-going nature was missing now that they were mere hours away from the inevitable. 

Chan stopped beside Minho as Ginora stopped briefly to address a sailor. 

“I have a bad feeling that something is going to happen sooner than it’s supposed to,” Chan mumbled under his breath and the wind almost whisked his words away before Minho could hear them. 

Minho shot him a concerned look. “What do you mean?” 

But before Chan could explain, Ginora finished her conversation and moved to lead them into the woods and Chan quickly followed before the trees could swallow her completely from view.

Minho sighed and let Ginora lead them to where the others had set up camp. When they were on the ship, Ginora had explained that others who felt wronged by the current King’s tyrannical rule were ready to join the cause and aid them in the fight. Minho had scoffed and made a joke about leading a resistance since he didn't actually believe that there would be people who were willing to die for this cause, but when no one else laughed, Minho had quickly realized that they were not joking. 

They broke through the foliage to enter a clearance and the sight before him proved that there were, in fact, people supporting him even if Minho had a hard time accepting it. Creatures of all kinds scrambled about and prepared themselves for battle. Some had the lower body of deer, whereas another person had eyes on the back of their hands. There was even a person with four arms with swords in each one. But despite their differences, they all had an emblem in the form of a roaring tiger on some part of their armor or weapon, and Minho realized belatedly that it was not because of a fashion trend. 

“Since when did we have a symbol?” Minho asked Jeongin when the younger fell into place next to him.

“Since always.”

“Really? How have I not realized until now?” Minho sent Jeongin a glare when he laughed. 

“That’s because you're slow and dense.” 

Minho opened his mouth to retort but the words quickly died on his tongue when their arrival drew attention. The short strands of hair at the base of Minho’s skull stood on end when eyes followed his every move curiously. Ginora led them to the largest tent in the middle of the clearance and when they entered, a large table with a map of the local area was the only thing pinned onto it. 

A woman with dark skin and a brilliantly white Afro jumped when they entered, her golden eyes flicking over them briefly before she sighed audibly and grabbed a clipboard. 

“You’re all here, great. Welcome, I’m Jasmine, make yourselves comfortable because we have a lot to go over and not enough time,” she said as Ginora walked around the table to wrap an arm around the shorter woman’s waist. 

Jasmine began to explain the plan that was already engraved into their brains and pointed out the paths that they’d take on the map. Minho’s heart raced as he gripped the edge of the table to ground himself to reality. 

The map was littered with various chess pieces and although Minho barely knew the rules to the board game, he was sure that there were more pieces than what a traditional set had. The black chess pieces that resembled them, were placed meticulously around the edge of the castle to mark where the defense would be. White chess pieces were scattered near the black pieces outside and inside of the castle as a rough estimate based on what they knew. 

Jasmine placed a white king where the throne room was located, where Kangsoo said he would be. 

“As much as I hate to say it, but Minho, you’ll probably be on your own.” Her golden eyes met his. “Although we have support, more so than we could’ve ever hoped for, the king has more. We’re outnumbered.” 

Minho shook his head and tried to ignore the concerned gazes on him. “This is more than I could ever hope for.” 

As someone who had been alone for nearly his entire life, seeing the number of people that were there to help him was overwhelming. Hell, the support from the other seven beside him was unexpected and overwhelming in itself. But to have people who barely knew him and want to help with something that could cost them their lives, Minho couldn’t find the right words to say to express his gratitude. 

But even if Minho couldn’t articulate his emotions well, the others in the tent seemed to understand. Especially Jisung, who threaded his fingers through Minho’s when their eyes met. 

“Yeah, it’s pretty remarkable how many people are here,” Felix said as he played with a chess piece on the table.

Minho nodded his agreement just as Seungmin began to talk about the plan once again, but Minho couldn’t concentrate on the conversation even if he was aware that he probably should. His eyes were trained onto Jasmine’s silver wristwatch, which slowly ticked as each second passed. 

Time seemed to halt as the minute hand slowly moved to the elegantly printed eight. Anxiety spiked through his body and overtook his body before he could even blink. The hand halted at the eight and suddenly a boom resonated throughout the air. 

Minho was yanked out of his thoughts when screams tore through the air and Jasmine hastily checked her watch for the time. 

“That bastard,” she swore. “It’s not midnight yet.” 

For a brief moment, everything was still and Minho’s body ran cold. 

“It’s time to go,” Chan muttered under his breath and he was the first to leave, the others followed his lead. 

Minho felt a tug on his hand and when he turned to look, Jisung was already watching him. “I’m not leaving your side,” Jisung said with enough conviction to almost convince him. “We’re going to do this together.” 

Slowly, Minho nodded. 

_Right, I’m not alone anymore._

  
  
  
  
  


The scene before them was like a live-action movie. People grabbed whatever weapon they could before they dashed into the northern trees to fight the onslaught of soldiers. Commands were being shouted into the night air as they struggled to group and work together. 

The problem with a group of misfits fighting together was that there was very little cohesion. 

Jisung could only feel pity as he watched the people around him disappear because the chances of them returning were slim. Jisung knew exactly what the royal guards were capable of and if Kangsoo had brought the best of them, then it wouldn’t even matter if they managed to group together and work as one. 

Thick clouds covered the full moon but the moon was so bright that it shone through. The signs of rain were beginning to show themselves, but Jisung barely felt the soft raindrops.

“Alright, we’ll see you all later,” Hyunjin said as he and Felix got ready to follow the others into the north side of the woods. 

A flash of worry appeared across Minho’s face but the older managed to mask it before anyone else could notice. They said their goodbyes before Hyunjin and Felix dashed into the woods to hold the main entrance. 

“Let’s get moving too,” Seungmin mumbled and the rest agreed. 

The six of them took a wide path around the castle to reach a spot where they could blast through the weak walls and enter the castle that way. Jisung trailed close to Minho but was too lost in his thoughts to notice how the leaves before them rustled. Before Jisung could reach for the gun at his hip, Minho pulled out his katana and suddenly a body fell to the ground with a dense thud. They didn’t stop to look at it. 

They broke through the foliage just as a blinding light to the west suddenly lit up the area. The clouds moved to clear a small portion of the sky as if a hand pushed them away and allowed a golden light to pass through, a type of light that would not be possible at midnight. Jisung could barely see how the light warped and sharpened only to rain deathly blades of light to the ground below before suddenly thick roots erupted from the ground, and with it, bodies of royal soldiers. 

Jisung swallowed the guilt in his throat and prayed that he didn’t know any of the soldiers here. 

“This is all yours, Seungmin,” Changbin said as they stepped away from the wall and let Seungmin prepare. 

Seungmin nodded once before he pulled a spherical object from his belt. He looked at the object and muttered something Jisung couldn’t hear before he pulled the pin and tossed it to the wall in front of them. 

The wall blew up the moment the object made contact and Jisung barely had time to turn away from the dust and debris before Minho was already moving to enter. Choking from the dust that tickled his throat, Jisung ran with him. 

The castle was in a serious state of disrepair, more so than the wall they just breached through. They didn’t have to blow another hole and could just walk over the crumbling wall. 

They dashed through the hallway with only the moonlight to guide them. Faint screams could be heard in the distance as they stepped on broken glass and kicked past old rubble. 

Jisung’s lungs burned as they turned a corner and continued through the empty hallway. As much as Jisung wanted to stop, he knew he couldn’t. He could only hope that he wasn’t holding them back. 

“Wait,” Jeongin suddenly said, halting in his tracks. “There’s a large group following us.” 

They paused and Jisung strained his ears to see if he could hear what Jeongin had. It took him a second, but eventually, he could make out heavy footsteps trailing behind them. 

“Let’s just run ahead.” Changbin’s eyebrows pinched together. 

“No, we can’t risk that.” Chan didn’t look happy saying that, but he did anyway. “Two of us should stay behind. If we go ahead, they’re going to catch up and we’ll be overwhelmed.”

Minho gritted his teeth. “You’re right.”

A second passed before Seungmin sighed. “I’ll stay behind, you guys go ahead.” 

“I’ll stay too,” Jeongin said before his eyes suddenly glowed yellow and it wasn’t a trick of the light. His ears flicked atop of his head and his teeth looked a little sharper than they did before when he smiled. “Seungminnie and I got this.”

“ _Hyung._ Seungmin _Hyung_ ,” Seungmin corrected the younger but Jeongin shrugged it off.

The two broke away from the group to prepare for the oncoming guards and the footsteps were becoming louder as they quickly approached. They didn’t have a lot of time left before the guards would be here and if the noise was anything to go by, there was a lot. 

Seungmin removed the large gun on his back and Jisung remembered what the redhead had told him about the weapon a few days ago. Jisung had been fascinated by the modifications Seungmin had managed to tinker and fix onto the assault rifle. It was bulkier than most guns of similar nature, but when Seungmin pressed a button and the weapon unfolded itself to a machine gun, Jisung fell into a state of awe once again. 

“Well? Off you go.” Jeongin grinned back at them and Jisung couldn’t figure out how the kitsune was so calm. 

Jisung found himself nodding slowly as Jeongin’s tail swished back and forth. Even if Jeongin only had one tail, there were nine in his shadow. 

Seungmin turned to give them one last look, his eyes reflected in the moonlight. “We’ll catch up, don’t worry.”

The encroaching footsteps were mere meters away when Jisung and the others simultaneously turned around and continued down the hallway. When they turned another corner, someone behind them yelled something incoherent before gunfire and screams ripped through the air. Jisung hoped that was a good sign. 

The cold night air hardly did anything to quell the fire in Jisung’s blood as they got closer to the throne room. Sweat beaded and rolled down Jisung’s temple before they rounded the corner only to be face to face with another group of soldiers blocking their path. 

“Shit, we’re not going to be able to get through anytime soon,” Changbin said as he raised his staff before him and black began to swallow his eyes in a way that Jisung was familiar with but hated nonetheless. 

Chan unsheathed his sword and positioned his shield before him. “You two go back where we came from. You’ll have to go the long way.” 

Jisung exchanged a look with Minho before Minho’s hand wrapped around Jisung’s wrist and yanked him backward. 

“We’ll see you later,” Minho called over his shoulder as they took off running back where they came from. 

Jisung hated this. He had never hated anything more than separating from his friends and leaving them to fend for themselves. He hated the anxiety and worry that clawed through him because he wasn’t sure if they were safe or not. He hated everything about this and it was all because of his stupid father. 

The rain outside the broken windows fell harder and thunder rumbled in the distance. The cracked floors became slick with water and in some instances, Jisung and Minho had to splash through puddles to get through. 

They were soaked to the bone as they approached the throne room. Lightning suddenly struck and the hair at the base of Jisung’s skull stood on end. For a brief moment, Jisung saw his reflection in the old brass doorknob, and he wasn’t sure if he liked what he saw. 

Minho pushed open the doors just as another strike of lightning cracked through the air, close enough that Jisung could smell ozone. 

Right before them, sitting on the throne was the man Jisung had grown to despise. 

His head rested in his hand as he gazed at them with a sardonic smile. His black hair moved in the wind from the gaping hole in the roof and almost appeared blue when the moonlight fell onto the crown of his head. 

“You’re just on time,” Kangsoo said as he straightened in his crumbling throne. The king’s longsword embedded into the stone near his feet.

“What happened to midnight?” Minho scowled. 

Kangsoo’s laughter echoed throughout the empty throne room. “It is midnight. Just look.” He tilted his head toward the hole in the roof. 

The moon was at its apex, watching over them unblinkingly. 

“Ah, you brought my son here too,” Kangsoo said and his face twisted as if he ate something sour.

“Son? That’s funny because you’ve never treated me as one.” Jisung scoffed as he pulled out his pistols and Minho reached for his katanas. 

“You wouldn’t be a king fit to rule this country if I constantly coddled you like your idiotic mother.” Kangsoo stood from his throne and pulled his longsword from the ground. “But I suppose it doesn’t matter because, after today, I won’t have a son.”

Jisung’s body shook as he held back his laughter. He wanted to laugh at the fact that his father really thought that he cared if he saw him as a son. The last thing Jisung wanted was to be related to that motherfucker. 

Kangsoo walked down his throne, his rich navy cape dragged along the ground before he unclasped the garment and let it fall to his feet. He peered at them with sinister eyes as if they were nothing but cattle to be slaughtered. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?” 

Jisung wasn’t really sure who moved first- Kangsoo or Minho- but they were both suddenly in the middle of the throne room, sword clanging against swords.

Jisung was fully aware of how anxious the older had been sheer moments before, but Jisung had a hard time accepting that when Minho’s face was a stony facade filled with ease. As if he was training for this his whole life, Minho met the King with confidence and Jisung could only pray for the best. 

Minho’s stygian blades blocked the onslaught of attacks from Kangsoo’s pristine silver longsword. They moved around each other as if they were performing a deadly dance by twirling out of the way or side-stepping from a jab. Jisung’s heart was in his throat as he raised his pistols and tried to aim, but whenever he got a clear view of Kangsoo, they would move and Minho would be in his line of sight.

A bead of sweat rolled down Jisung’s temple as he waited for the right moment. Taking a shaky breath in, the moment came and he almost choked on the air in his throat when he pulled the trigger. 

Jisung’s heart hammered in his chest but at the last possible second, like Kangsoo knew what Jisung was going to do, he moved and the bullet whizzed past his ear. 

Kangsoo paused momentarily and Minho used the opportunity to strike. Unfortunately, Kangsoo predicted Minho’s movement and ducked out of the way. 

“Tsk, my annoying son,” Kangsoo growled before he blocked another of Minho’s strikes. Instead of attacking back with his blade, Kangsoo pulled back and confusion flashed over Minho’s face before Kangsoo’s foot made contact with his stomach and kicked him away. 

“Minho!” Jisung could only watch helplessly as Minho rolled a few feet away and coughed up blood when he came to a stop. Jisung was ready to run to Minho’s aid, but before he could even move a foot, Kangsoo was suddenly in front of him, annoyance and fury masked his aged face. 

“Don’t think you’ll get to leave unpunished,” Kangsoo smirked before he kneed Jisung in the stomach. 

Jisung gasped for air as pain flared throughout his body. The metallic taste of blood filled his mouth as he bit his tongue before he hit the ground with a groan. 

Blinking the stars from his eyes, Jisung glanced up in time to see Kangsoo raise his silver blade above him. Without a second to spare, Jisung scrambled away only for the King’s blade to slice through the tiles between Jisung’s legs like it was nothing. 

“You’re annoying, like a pesky fly during the summer.” Kangsoo spat as he yanked his blade from the tiles and Jisung scrambled away as fast as he could. But before he could get very far, Kangsoo suddenly brought his foot down only to crush Jisung’s left arm under it. His gun slipped from his grasp and the King brought his sword down and destroyed the weapon beyond repair.

Jisung cried out as pain flared through his arm and the bones under Kangsoo’s boot cracked. Doing the best to blink the black dots from his vision, Jisung tried to control his haggard breathing as he begged his body to move away from the scorching pain. 

Raising his other hand, Jisung pulled the trigger at point-blank but before he could even blink, the person before him was suddenly gone and his bullets embedded themselves into the crumbling ceiling.

Suddenly, his gun was ripped from his hand and tossed aside. Jisung was lifted by the collar of his shirt and met Kangsoo’s sneer. 

“Is this all you can do?” Kangsoo’s soulless black eyes peered into Jisung maliciously. “You can’t even fight like a real man.”

Jisung scoffed. “Go fuck yourself.” 

Kangsoo’s nostrils flared. “You-“

Before Kangsoo could say anything else, something as dark as the night sky itself sliced through the air between him and the king only to lodge into the wall. A bit of dark blood dripped from the cut along the King’s forearm and Jisung could only stare at his reflection on Minho’s katana as it slowly stopped shaking from the impact. 

“Your fight is with me.” Minho stood with one katana in his hand and pointed it directly at Kangsoo. “Come fight me like the man you think you are.” 

Jisung could hear Kangsoo’s cackling laughter from the other side of Minho’s blade before Jisung was suddenly thrown against the wall. Jisung bit back a groan as his head hit the cold wall and he slumped forward. 

“I’m glad my enemy isn’t a coward.” Kangsoo retrieved his sword and Jisung pushed himself onto one arm. 

Taking a quick glance at his left arm, Jisung held back his gag as he examined how broken it was. His forearm was completely shattered and was very quickly bruising. That would explain why he could no longer move his left hand. 

The sharp sound of metal on metal drew Jisung’s attention away from his arm as Minho and Kangsoo fought once again but it was clear that Minho was struggling. 

Minho was used to combat with two blades. With his dual katanas, Minho was able to withhold Kangsoo’s strikes and counter with relative ease, but now that Minho only had one of his katanas, he would often accidentally leave one side of his body exposed and Kangsoo used it to his advantage. 

Jisung’s head was pounding as he looked frantically around him for a way to help. Dread had started to seep into Jisung when he wasn’t sure if there was anything to do since shooting Kangsoo had done nothing but annoy Kangsoo and leave him with a broken arm. Hopelessness clung to Jisung’s body and left his heart heavy until his eyes landed on the blade protruding from the wall. 

Scrambling to his feet, Jisung wrapped his only good hand around the handle and tugged with all his might. But when the sword didn’t budge, Jisung gritted his teeth and planted a foot against the wall so he could use more force. 

Jisung’s plan turned out to be effective because the katana slid out with the additional force, the only problem was that he lost his footing and fell onto his broken arm. 

Jisung choked back his scream as pain shot up his arm and left his mind swimming. Blinking away his tears, Jisung slowly pushed himself onto his feet only to pause in his steps. 

Kangsoo swung his silver blade in a wide arch and brought it down to the side Minho had unwillingly left unguarded. Minho’s mismatched eyes widened a fraction before he managed to bring his blade up in time to halt Kangsoo from slashing his face in half. Minho managed to block the attack, but as Kangsoo pressed harder, Minho had to use his other hand to support the top of his katana. 

Jisung’s blood ran cold when Kangsoo suddenly scoffed. The King pressed harder and Minho’s katana slipped from his grasp. A curse left Minho’s chapped lips as Kangsoo nicked Minho’s shoulder and the katana fell to the floor with a harsh clang. 

“Nice try,” Kangsoo sneered before he raised his blade and prepared to swing. 

Jisung was running before he could even blink. 

Hell, he didn’t realize he was moving until Minho’s eyes found him and widened dramatically, but it was too late for Jisung to stop and reevaluate. Even if Jisung had all the time in the world to think about what he was doing, it wouldn’t matter because he would make the same decision no matter what. 

Jisung slammed into Minho’s body, successfully shoving the older out of the way just as Kangsoo’s longsword swung down. Jisung couldn’t feel anything for a few brief moments except for the rough wet ground below him as he and Minho tumbled across the ground. But when they stopped rolling and Jisung could take a haggard breath in, he was met with scorching pain. 

Even as the cold rain poured onto him from the hole in the ceiling, Jisung’s chest felt as if it was on fire with the pain that ripped across. Jisung could barely breathe because with every breath he took, the pain would flair and his head would spin. The pain across his chest; however, was nearly nothing to what he felt in his arm. It stung as if someone had torn open his body then poured alcohol over the open wounds. Tears collected in his eyes and Jisung pushed himself onto his good arm to examine the damage. 

Jisung sucked in a harsh breath as watch the blood ooze from the large gash across his chest. It stretched from his left shoulder and across to his right. But the worst of all, his entire left arm was missing. 

Slumping back onto his back, the cold water from the puddle Jisung laid in soaked into his clothes and leeched the remaining warmth from his body. Jisung clutched at his chest as he struggled to find a good amount of air to breathe in that would result in the least amount of pain. The result, however, was only shallow desperate gasps of air. 

“Jisung? _Fuck_ Jisung, no.” Minho suddenly appeared above Jisung and Jisung hated the worry on Minho’s face. 

“I’ll be okay,” Jisung tried to reassure but his voice came out weak. “Don’t worry abo- Minho, behind you!” 

Minho’s eyes widened at Jisung’s warning but it was too late. The flat part of Kangsoo’s blade came into contact with the side of Minho’s face and sent the older flying through the air only to roll a few feet away. 

“Oi, don’t take your eyes off your opponent. Don’t you know better?” Kangsoo’s voice was hollow and unimpressed. 

Jisung’s head rolled to the side as he helplessly watched Minho. The rain suddenly picked up and the harsh drops fell onto his face, but Jisung barely processed it all. Despair and worry clung to his heart as Minho laid unmoving on the ground, his head turned away. 

“Minho, please get up,” Jisung begged and his tears spilled over. 

Kangsoo laughed. “Come on, you heard him. Get up.” 

The world was freakishly still for a moment before lightning cracked through the sky and momentarily lit the room. Jisung was sure his heart wasn’t beating anymore when Minho’s body remained still. 

Thunder boomed through the sky but Jisung could still hear Kangsoo’s haunting laughter. The sound was a blade lodged in his heart, pushing further and further into his body until Jisung could only pray to whatever deity that was listening for Minho to be okay. 

Kangsoo approached Minho slowly as his sword dragged across the ruins of the old throne room. The sound was a cursed melody as it filled the empty air whenever thunder wasn’t present. 

Jisung’s mind was blank except for Minho’s still form. His body was alive with something foreign to Jisung and he had no idea how to identify the electricity that thrummed through his body, but he was thankful for it because it was one of the only reasons why Jisung rose on shaky legs, grabbed Minho’s discarded sword, and charged. 

As if sensing that something was off, Kangsoo turned around just in time for Jisung to thrust the blade deep within the King’s belly. Instead of crimson, a liquid as dark as a moonless sky sprayed around them as Jisung shoved the katana as deep as it could go and twisted the blade when the hilt was flush against his stomach. 

The King gasped and more blood trickled from his lips. Jisung stared into his eyes and enjoyed how surprise flashed in his ugly irises.

The surprise, however, didn’t last long.

Anger was quick to overtake Kangsoo. “You are a menace,” he spat but slowly, a disbelieving grin overtook his features. “Perhaps, you are not as cowardly as I thought you were. You’re stupid, but this stupidity is the closest thing you have to bravery.”

The rain suddenly resumed as thunder rumbled through the air and fear paralyzed Jisung’s body when the King moved before he could. A callous and cold hand wrapped around Jisung’s throat and he would only stare hopelessly as Kangsoo glared daggers. 

With a simple thrust, Jisung tumbled across the floor and choked on a startled cry. He came to an abrupt stop and spat out the blood in his mouth.

Blinking the stars from his eyes, Jisung watched as Kangsoo approached him and tried his best to hide how he trembled under the King’s gaze. Jisung was terrified beyond belief, he had never been more worried about his safety than now, and the only reason Jisung took off running to his discarded gun was because of the reassurance Minho, no matter how lifeless he appeared, gave him. 

Even if it’ll cost him his life, even if Jisung had to trade his own body for this, Jisung had to do it. He had to buy Minho more time. 

Jisung wrapped a hand around the familiar weapon and didn’t need to think twice before he aimed and fired. The gun warmed in his hand and for a brief moment, nothing happened. Laughter perched on the King’s lips as he yanked the sword out of his body and cracked it in half, blood flew in the air and painted the tiles below their feet black. Sweat rolled down Jisung’s temple, but before Jisung could discard the gun and try something else, the gun fired and Jisung’s shoulder seared in pain due to the recoil. 

The bullet found a home in Kangsoo’s throat and for a brief moment, Jisung wasn’t scared. The King’s eyes widened and more blood oozed from the wound. 

Lightning cracked above them and Kangsoo’s face was illuminated in the harsh light. He was a reanimated corpse with how he stood with his mouth agape in shock as if he could not believe that his supposed useless son was able to harm him twice. His hair clung to his skull and the bags under his eyes seemed more prominent as Kangsoo’s eyes bore into Jisung. As if controlled by a puppet, the King dug his thumb and pointer finger into the wound and pulled out the bullet all while peering at Jisung like gum stuck under his shoe. Discarding the bullet, it clinked against the tiles, and the insignificant sound echoed in Jisung's brain. 

The smile that slowly stretched across Jisung’s lips suddenly slipped from his face when Kangsoo’s shocked expression morphed into anger. Blood trickled from Jisung’s wounds and before Jisung could decide if he had any remaining strength, his knees buckled and he sank to the cold, wet ground. Praying to whatever deity still existed, Jisung sucked a bone-rattling breath and tried to fight the tears collecting in his eyes when the pain in his body amplified by a tenfold. He’d rather be dead than have his father see him cry.

As if a god had heard Jisung’s prayers, a low growl ripped through the air and the thin hair at the base of Jisung’s neck stood on end. Simultaneously, Jisung and Kangsoo turned to see Minho shift onto his hands, his head hung low, but a deep growl rumbled in his throat. 

Jisung was terrified. He was terrified beyond belief, but most of all he was hopeful. Maybe foolishly so, but hopeful nonetheless. 

Minho positioned himself to a crouched position as an excited gleam returned to Kangsoo’s soulless eyes. The excitement; however, was short-lived when Minho, previously unmoving and stiff, suddenly pounced. His body shifted before their very eyes and before Minho’s feet could return to the ground, he had already successfully transformed and his large paws hit the ground running. 

Jisung had witnessed Minho transform numerous times but this time was like no other. 

Fur as white as the stars overtook Minho’s form instead of the usual honey-orange. He glowed as if his body was made of light itself and his eyes, one brilliantly silver and the other a deep stygian black, glinted dangerously in the moonlight.

For the first time in Jisung’s short life, he saw fear flash across his selfish father’s eyes. It was a foreign appearance and Jisung almost thought he was human for a brief second. Kangsoo staggered backward, but even if he was ready for Minho’s attack, it would not have been enough.

Minho bared his sharp teeth before they sank into Kangsoo’s shoulder. The King screamed in agony and Minho dug his teeth further and further into Kangsoo’s flesh. Kangsoo thrashed around as a desperate attempt at dislodging Minho, but it only served to give Minho a deeper grasp. 

With a deep growl, Minho twisted away and tore a large chunk of flesh from Kangsoo’s shoulder. The dark blood splashed across Minho was a stark contrast to his fur as Minho spat what was in his mouth. Kangsoo staggered away and tried to regain his focus with a haggard breath.

Kangsoo gripped his longsword in his shaky grasp and tried to fight back, but due to his wound in his shoulder, Kangsoo only had one arm to use and his heavy blade was not made for single-hand combat. Minho easily ducked under Kangsoo’s attack and batted the blade from the King’s grasp. Kangsoo’s chest raised and fell in quick succession as he hopelessly tried to find a solution to his struggles. 

Swaying on unstable legs, Minho took a few steps back only to charge towards Kangsoo. The King’s eyes widened before Minho suddenly shifted back in a flurry of golden fractals of light and used his remaining momentum to kick the king in the chest. 

Kangsoo flew through the air only to slam into his crumbling throne, his head collapsed to his chest. 

Lightning crackled around them, followed shortly by thunder, as Minho stood before the fallen king. Minho’s hair glowed and lightning danced along his skin as if he was the sky itself. With every step Minho took, lightning crackled above them and filled the throne room with a blinding light. 

Illuminated by the moon and the raging storm, Jisung suddenly understood as his breathing slowed and his eyes trailed Minho. Minho, the boy from the prophecy, the boy with stars under his fingertips and eyes of precious metals, was so terribly broken from his past but despite the cracks and the misaligned pieces of his soul, he had somehow held himself together like a kintsugi plate. Minho, embossed with gold, was stronger due to his imperfections.

Jisung’s chest ached for an entirely different reason as he watched the boy he loved. 

Minho’s shadow crawled over the expanse of the throne room as he approached the king and it was no longer one of a human, but instead a tiger, ferocious and angry, yet calm and collected. Every time Jisung saw it, fear crawled through his body even if he knew there was nothing to be scared of. 

An aura of regalness emanated from Minho as his eyes continued to glow and Minho’s silver rectangular earring caught the moonlight. Minho’s face was void of emotion when he reached the bottom of the throne and suddenly his shadow warped until there was a nine-tailed fox sitting beside the tiger. Both animals grinned as Minho walked up the stairs only to stop before Kangsoo.

Kangsoo sprawled over the crumbs of his throne, his chest rose and fell at a rapid pace. He peered into Minho’s eyes before he licked his lips. His voice, now like smoke, was raspy as he struggled to speak authoritatively. “You and I- we’re not all that different,” Kangsoo rasped as a desperate, pathetic last attempt at postponing his death. 

“We are nothing alike.” Minho’s voice echoed throughout the room as if he was everywhere at once. 

Kangsoo flinched from Minho’s tone but continued to talk. “We both ruthlessly fight for what we want. We would sacrifice so much just to get that and that makes us the same.” 

Minho only stared unblinkingly as he wrapped a hand around Kangsoo’s neck and slowly squeezed. 

Panic flashed in Kangsoo’s eyes and he tried to pry Minho’s hand from his neck. “You- you can’t kill me!” 

Minho squeezed harder and the air crackled with something unforgiving. It suffocated Jisung from the inside out but the deathly grasp on his oxygen was suddenly gone when Minho released the King. Kangsoo took a shaky inhale but that didn’t last before Minho’s hand shifted into its tiger equivalent and plunged into Kangsoo’s chest. 

Time didn’t exist as Kangsoo gasped desperately. More of his black blood began to seep from the wound. “I should have killed you years ago,” he gurgled as blood trickled from his lips and anger overtook his fear. 

“Yes, you should’ve.” Unblinking, Minho plunged his hand further and Kangsoo coughed more of the viscous black liquid, his hands fell limp at his sides. 

Minho, for whatever ever reason, took his time in killing the King. Perhaps he was reveling in the satisfaction of completing what he was meant to do for so long, or perhaps Minho just wanted to make sure Kangsoo remembered nothing but pain as his last moment on Earth, but Minho betrayed none of his emotions as his hand slowly sank into Kangsoo’s chest cavity. 

“Hurry up and kill me,” Kangsoo smiled at Minho. “Or are you stalling because you actually can’t?”

Minho’s glowing eyes peered down at Kangsoo with disgust before an equally sinister smile stretched across his lips. “I’m just basking in this moment.” His echoing voice was void of emotion but it was enough to send chills down Jisung’s spine. 

They watched each other as two rivals on equal standing before Kangsoo looked away and found Jisung. Jisung, who could only kneel on the ground and try to stop his body from bleeding out, shuddered when Kangsoo grinned at his son. For a brief moment, Jisung remembered the loving father he once had before Kangsoo turned into the ruthless king he currently was, and the tears he desperately tried to hold back, spilled. Kangsoo’s lips began to move and form syllables, but before the King could say another word, Minho plunged his hand further and ripped out the King’s black heart with one fluid motion. 

Kangsoo choked on the blood overflowing through his mouth before lightning crackled across the sky then over Minho’s body. Minho’s emotionless face terrified Jisung but Jisung could only watch as Minho squeezed the organ until it burst into a gushing mess of black, viscous blood. 

A terrible scream crawled its way out of Kangsoo’s body as it suddenly began to rapidly decay. A pungent smell permeated the air and his body aged as if someone had fast-forwarded his life before their eyes. When Jisung blinked his tears away, only a pile of ash was left. 

The lighting suddenly stopped and the pouring rain halted. The world was so silent that Jisung’s ears rang and he was left to shiver in his wet clothes. 

Minho remained standing until his knees buckled and he staggered down the throne, nearly falling in the process. 

“Minho?” Jisung rasped, his body flared in pain as he tried to call out to the boy before him. 

Minho’s head snapped up with speed Jisung didn’t know was possible. Their eyes met and Minho’s odd eyes continued to glow for a moment longer, taking more time to return to the color Jisung was used to. 

“Jisung- oh fuck, Jisung.”

The moment Jisung’s name tumbled out of Minho’s lips, Jisung's body gave up and he crumpled to the ground. The cold water enveloped Jisung like a crude hug and he couldn’t fight back his shiver. With the blood that oozed from his body, his energy and adrenaline left too.

For some odd reason, laughter began to bubble out of Jisung’s mouth but he quickly forced it down when the motion caused his whole body to ache in pain. 

“You did it, Minho.” Jisung smiled up at the older when Minho rushed to his side.

“I- yeah, yeah, I did.” Minho’s eyebrows pulled together and Jisung hated that. “I- fuck, Jisung stay still for me, please. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” 

Minho scanned Jisung briefly before he tore a long strip from the hem of his shirt and used it to tie above his missing arm. 

Jisung hissed as Minho tied it tightly. “Minho, that hurts.” 

“I know, my love, I know. But trust me on this, okay? It’ll help.” 

Jisung nodded but Minho wasn’t looking at him. With a weak arm, Jisung pulled Minho away from whatever the hell he was doing only to connect their lips. Minho burned against Jisung’s frozen body, but Jisung didn’t mind it. 

“Shit, you’re so cold, Jisung.”

Jisung dropped his arm to his side and tried to find any ounce of energy to think of a snarky response, but all he managed was a pain-filled smile. 

There were a million different things Jisung wanted to say but the words were too heavy for his lips to formulate. His heart was a drum in his chest as it hammered away and tried to fill his body with what it needed, but Jisung was well aware that it barely had anything to move because he laid in it. 

“Red is such a sad color,” Jisung mumbled and Minho tilted his head as confusion bloomed across his face. Minho, despite having a few injuries of his own, took care of Jisung first and Jisung couldn’t tell if he hated or loved that selflessness. 

Red surrounded them and stained their clothes. It filled the air with a sharp metallic scent and Jisung figured that Minho either didn’t notice or didn’t care even with his sensitive nose because the older never shied away from Jisung and the red around him. 

“What are you talking about?” Minho murmured and Jisung found that he liked how Minho’s voice ricocheted in his chest and filled his body with warmth. 

Blood, now diluted and runny, dripped down Jisung’s hand as he raised it tentatively and Minho grabbed it without a second thought. Jisung’s vision began to blur but he wasn’t sure if it was because of the tears that slipped down his face or because he was losing consciousness. 

“Listen, Minho, I don’t think-“

Before Jisung could finish his sentence, Minho reconnected their lips to interrupt him. “Shut up, Jisung, everything will be okay.” Minho’s voice was calm and a slightly teasing tone tinted his words, but Jisung could tell he was panicking due to how his hands shook with every syllable. 

Taking a struggling breath of air, Jisung tried to say something back but he couldn’t. His lips would move but he was too tired to form words. He wanted to tell Minho that he was alright and that Minho did a great job. He wanted to tell Minho that he loved him one last time. 

But he couldn’t. 

Tears continued to stream down both of their faces, but Jisung couldn’t really see anymore. He knew it was more than just the tears that were hindering his sight. It was a shame really, he wanted to run his eyes over Minho’s beautiful face one more time. 

“H-hey Jisung? My love? Stay with me, alright?” Jisung wanted to nod but it was too much work. “Do you hear them? P-people are coming, they’ll save you.” 

A warm yet gentle weight was placed on Jisung’s forehead and it took him a second to realize that Minho rested his head on his. The older continued to mumble something and Jisung had to hold a breath in order to hear Minho’s pleas for help over his own ragged breathing.

Jisung forced himself to smile but it was short-lived. After some time, he did hear the approaching footsteps but he had to strain his ears because eventually, all he could hear was his own slowing heartbeat. His vision turned black around the edges and he felt cold. Jisung wasn’t in his own body but instead floating away from it. 

“Minho-Hyung?” A deep voice rang through the air. It sounded familiar. “J-Jisung?” 

“Fucking hell, thank God, Felix.” The comfortable weight from before was suddenly gone as Minho turned to address the angel. Minho sounded so heartbroken and Jisung hated himself for that. For putting Minho through all of this. “Please, you have to save Jisung, _please.”_

Jisung breathed in the comforting scent that swirled around him. The refreshing and clean scent reminded him, strangely enough, of an early morning on a snow-capped mountain even if Jisung had never been to one. But what the scent mostly reminded him of, was of home. 

Jisung didn’t breathe out. 

  
  
  
  
  
  
  


Minho stood in front of the mirror and took a deep breath in as he examined himself. 

Nothing much had changed, really. His hair was still the same brown it always had been, his eyes were still two different colors, he still had scars, both figuratively and literally. 

But despite the very little physical change, Minho felt different. 

He felt lighter as if a large weight had been removed from his shoulders like he had less to worry about. The shackles of anxiety, although still there, were most definitely not as noticeable and weren’t as constricting as they once were. 

Minho still worried about things, hell he was worried about the fact that he had to stand before a large crowd in about half an hour, but he knew he had to do it. He had to swallow his fear because he had to do it for Jisung. 

“Hey, Minho? Can you help me real quick?”

Minho turned away from the mirror to see Jisung walk around the bed to stop before him. The younger fiddled with the string that pulled the front of his shirt together between his fingers. The metal prosthetic that comprised Jisung's entire left arm was something Jisung had yet to get used to. Minho knew that Jisung was thankful for Seungmin’s machine, but Minho supposed that there would be a learning curve no matter how good an invention was. 

It had been a few months since Minho nearly lost Jisung forever. Minho could still vividly remember the panic he felt as he stared at Jisung’s lifeless form, no longer representing spring and new beginnings, but instead coldness and death. Minho’s fingers would sometimes tremble as if he still held the younger’s pale body. Minho’s consciousness could and would never forget what it was like to almost lose something priceless. 

Minho would never forget how he clung to Felix and begged for the angel to help. He would never forget how Hyunjin had to pry him away in order for Felix to save Jisung. Minho would never forget how Jisung was only saved because of the blessing they received from the nine-tailed fox. Minho would never forget what it felt like to love someone so much that it hurt to breathe without them. 

With a gentle intake of air, Minho couldn’t hide the soft smile that stretched across his lips. “Of course.” 

Effortlessly, Minho pulled the ties so that Jisung’s shirt covered the large scar across the expanse of his chest before he tied the remaining cord into a neat bow. 

“Good to go,” Minho said as he smoothed out Jisung’s shirt. 

Jisung gave him a thankful smile and the sun behind him illuminated the Prince in an otherworldly glow. His honey-brown hair shimmered gold in the light and Minho watched as a thin strand of hair fell out of place. Pulling down the sleeves of his shirt so that only his hands could be seen, Jisung gave him a grin that stole Minho’s breath even if he could see the concern swimming in his emerald eyes. “How are you holding up? You don’t like crowds.”

Minho rolled his eyes and made a flippant gesture with his hand. “I’m not the one getting crowned.”

“Yes, but you’ll be the future prince of Korea after we get married,” Jisung smirked as he picked up his suit jacket and slung it over his shoulder. 

“As long as you keep your promise that you’ll dance with me first, I don’t care.” 

Jisung laughed and Minho’s heart skipped a beat. It was his most favorite sound in the world. 

“I promised, did I not?” Jisung leaned in to capture Minho’s lips with his.

“Yes, you did,” Minho’s voice trailed off as he suddenly realized that his worries always seemed insignificant after Jisung kissed him. They watched each other for a second as if seeing each other for the first time before Minho’s eyes widened in realization. “Oh, I have something for you.”

“What is it?” Jisung’s eyes sparkled as he waited for Minho to reveal his gift. 

“Close your eyes,” Minho said as embarrassment suddenly washed over him and painted his cheeks pink. 

Jisung laughed but shortly complied, his eyelids fluttering shut to hide the viridescent irises Minho loved so dearly. 

Taking a deep breath in, Minho peered at the small, silver object in his hand and remembered everything he had been through. Even if he wasn’t completely healed from his past and all the traumatic experiences he had been through, they all seemed so bleak compared to what was happening now or what will happen in the future. 

Minho reached with shaking hands to thread the earring through Jisung’s ear. The silver rectangular jewelry caught the setting sunlight and Minho had to fight back the sudden onslaught of emotions. 

“You can open your eyes now.”

Immediately, Jisung found a mirror to gaze at the earring that was now his. The soft smile on his face immediately slipped from his lips when the younger realized what Minho had given him. 

“I- are you sure, Minho?” Jisung whirled around and captured Minho’s eyes with his and Minho wanted nothing more than to get lost in Jisung. “This was your parents’ and I know how important it is to you.” 

Minho shook his head and grinned at Jisung’s flabbergasted expression. “My mom told me to give it to the one person I’d want to spend the rest of my life together with, and so, it’s now yours.” 

Jisung didn’t say anything and only continued to gape at Minho. Fear slowly began to rear its ugly head the longer Jisung stayed quiet and the more his eyes watered. 

“Do you-“

“I fucking love you.” 

Jisung threw his arms around Minho’s neck and attached his lips onto Minho’s. Minho froze for a brief moment before he melted and returned the kiss with the promise of loving Jisung forever. 

“I love you too.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> holy Jesus Christ, the end is here!!! THANK YOUUU to everyone who has stuck with me since the beginning, thank you to everyone who left a comment, thank you to everyone who has read this from start to finish. Thank you even if you skimmed through it and didn't really like it. I really cannot put into words how much everyone's support means to me. It has definitely been a rough journey when publishing this fic and tbh I was kind of scared of possible backlash, but I'm so overwhelmed with all the positivity I've received. This fic is nowhere near perfect and there are some points where I cringed at my own writing, but I hope that everyone enjoyed it nonetheless. I've learned so much from this, and I don't have the words to articulate how impactful publishing this was.
> 
> I love you all and I hope you stay safe during these difficult times :)
> 
> I have a different fic in the works so hopefully, I see you all again soon.
> 
> Thank you for reading ♡


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